Dead Man's Shoes
by Elanthra
Summary: What's so special about John Sheppard? When Dr. Keller finds out, does he want to know anyway? Something for everyone. Drama. Adventure. Mystery. Shep Whump. Humour.'a single bullet hit the approaching Lorne between the eyes.'
1. Chapter 1

Author's foreword

This is set in Season 4, between Missing and The Seer. It's really my apprentice piece, though it follows Michael's Chair which was an idea that popped up when I was three quarters of the way through this and got stuck in a plot hole.

I've erred on the side of caution and rated this as T. One later chapter _might_ be considered violent. And there are a couple of minor adult references.

* * *

Dead Man's Shoes

Prologue/Chapter One

They were everywhere. Fleeting glimpses of black figures and silvery hair in the tall scrub. Moving fast. Left and right. Outflanking. Seconds and they'd be in range.

He could nothing more than yell at the others to get back to the Jumper.

Too late.

Too late even to organize covering fire.

An insane scramble up a gravely ridge in full view. _Damn! He had lead the men into the proverbial trap. _

Wraith stunners. High odds one of those would find their target soon_._ Loud explosions of dust and rocks at their feet, throwing debris into their faces that stung and blinded.

Scott twisted round to return fire. Sheppard grabbed him and pushed him on upwards.

"No time!" he hissed.

Onto level ground. Weaving left and right. But still with no cover, and another ridge fifty or sixty metres at eleven o'clock. Above which the tree line began. There, a degree of safety. And - the Wraith had no cover either.

"Lorne! Thomas! Go! Scott with me!"

Scott and Sheppard turned and knelt and aimed their P90s at the top of the ridge they'd just ascended.

Two Drone heads appeared over the summit and took the full impact of a dozen rounds, blood spurting from their masks. Scott and Sheppard rose in an instant and ran low for twenty metres. Backs exposed, they should have been as good as dead by now. They snaked round and dropped down again as before. Another four Drones already over the ridge. Automatic fire from the pairs' weapons quickly finished them. Others followed fast, closing the gap in frenzied running. Thankfully Lorne and Thomas were already up the second ridge and safe behind trees, providing covering fire. Scott and Sheppard let off a few rounds and sprinted for dear life.

But the miracle was over.

Stunner beams all round. Scott took a full blast in the back, arms flayed out and fell backwards down the ridge they'd half climbed. Sheppard instinctively clambered towards him setting off an avalanche of rocks grinding against boots and grabbed the marine's vest.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sheppard saw that only two Drones remained. Great. But he still couldn't believe he was doing this. Attempting to drag Scott up the ridge with one hand and firing the P90 from the hip with the other. It was hopeless. The loose stuff beneath his boots met no traction, and he slid back down, taking Scott with him. A stunner blast hit Scott again and as Scott now lay across Sheppard, saved the Colonel from the full force.

Sheppard grabbed his gun with both hands now and emptied his magazine at these last two Wraith, hitting one repeatedly and fatally through the breastplate. The other he wounded in the hand, wrecking the Wraith's stunner and sending it flying through the air. Slowed but maddened and grunting, the Drone continued to advance.

There was nothing Sheppard could do. He had to leave Scott behind.

Lorne and Thomas, he noted, had ceased firing. At the bottom of the ridge, this last Wraith was out of their field of sight. He tossed the P90 aside and madly thrust up the ridge again, grappling for his handgun out of its side holster. Not easy when the ground began sliding away beneath him. He fell to his front and slithered back down the slope, the rocks and stones tearing and grazing at his hands as he attempted to reach for a hold.

Then… somehow… he dropped his gun.

And helplessly watched it roll and career down to the bottom of the ridge.

_Hell, why didn't he just hand it over nice and polite to the bastard?_

He frantically threw himself over onto his back, grabbing at the knife from its sheath at his hip. The Wraith had already bent down and picked up the gun that had come to rest at his feet, sniffing and snarling at it, soon realizing the weapon's use and potential.

Now or never. Sheppard sprung up at the Wraith, ready to plunge the knife deep into its neck. The creature, however, had clumsily wrapped its talon-like fingers around the trigger.

And squeezed.

At the very instant Sheppard's knife sunk into the ugly folds of flesh above the breastplate, spewing out the dark oily blood, a single bullet hit the approaching Lorne between the eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks reviewers!_

_I love creating ambiguity! Intended or otherwise. __re Wraith killing Lorne v. Shep. Perhaps the Wraith was facing a different direction when it picked up the gun? Perhaps Shep. attacked the Wraith from the side or the rear so he was outside of the Wraith's aim? Perhaps the Wraith saw Lorne as more of a threat - he was coming with a loaded weapon and Shep. only had a knife? Perhaps Shep's attack caused him to miss-aim, and it was just a (un) lucky break that he killed Lorne? Perhaps all of the above? Perhaps I didn't kill off Lorne anyway... Perhaps, damn, I've just increased my word count!_

_What follows is a more of a story setting chapter - and much slower than the first - I can't keep that sort of action up - I'll have a heart attack! Bear with it, things do get moving again. And there's another cliffhanger! _

* * *

CHAPTER TWO

Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard took the steps two at a time heading for Commander Samantha Carter's office. Ideally situated, its glass panels afforded the view of both the Stargate below and the Control Room across the landing with its Atlantis personnel busy over laptops and monitors. A reassuring atmosphere in the blinking lights and blue glare from screens and panels. Daily routine to them by now but vital to assess incoming dangers from the Pegasus Galaxy. These guys were as important as any of the military personnel.

He'd been summoned and he had a good notion why and the notion sat uncomfortably. And the notion was confirmed. Once on the gangway, he could see Lorne sitting there opposite Carter. The Atlantis Commander looked up at his approach and Lorne twisted round in his seat, recognising Sheppard with the usual black bitter look he gave Sheppard nowadays and turned back again, ignoring him.

From the other side of the glass panels, Sheppard feigned having forgotten something, patted imaginary pockets at the sides of his black tee shirt, smiled ruefully at Carter, and hastily re-tracked along the gangway.

A frown quickly replaced the smile. There was no way was he ready for this. He heard Carter calling after him and pretended not to hear, tapping his earpiece to the off position.

He knew he shouldn't have backed away. But he didn't want a confrontation. Not with Lorne.

But Lorne might really be screwing the knife now. Demanding a full military enquiry. Claiming Sheppard was unfit to lead. And Lorne was probably justified in those demands. Justified in hating Sheppard right now. Though Sheppard knew he didn't hate him back. Just hated the way things had turned out…

Sheppard respected his second-in-command. As a soldier and a colleague. And normally, Lorne was a reasonably amiable guy. His dry humour and career professionalism might have marked him as shallow. But a guy who paints for a hobby, well… a guy who paints for a hobby runs deep and it was in that deepness that Lorne was hurting. So Sheppard was prepared to give him some slack.

He was being paranoiac, he knew. What could Lorne possibly say that would influence Carter? _Damn, he hated it when things got all political! _He felt he didn't know Carter well enough yet. But didn't sense the same loyalty there as with Elizabeth Weir, her predecessor. He missed Elizabeth. They'd had three good years together. Though good might not be the best word to use... The ache still. That they'd lost all trace of her after that mission to the Replicator Homeworld and that a rescue had been ruled out - Sam Carter's decision. You never leave a man behind had always been Sheppard's motto. He was never going to change that. And felt that he was even being asked to accept that she was now dead. He was never going to change that either…

"A penny for your thoughts?"

He had gone down the wide staircase and reached the Stargate floor. It was Teyla. He wished she'd been on his last mission. With her sense of Wraith presence to pre-warn everyone, Major Lorne's younger brother might still be alive. Unusually though for Teyla, she'd been unwell, but now fully recovered she seemed more… radiant than ever. A thought flicked through his mind that he instantly rejected as ridiculous. He'd seen Dr. Keller's report clearing her for duty. He looked beyond her to the young marine standing pensively behind her. Who stood to attention smartly, hands behind his back with a brisk 'Sir!'

Not this routine_ again!_ Sheppard sighed and played along. They'd been through all this before.

"At ease!" to the soldier. And then a firm "no!" to Teyla.

Private Shepto was the only Athosian besides Teyla to be recruited into Atlantis security forces. Personally trained and recommended by Teyla, though still a youth, only a few years older than Jinto, his friend, his prowess in combat could not be faulted and, like Teyla, had much experience with Stargate travel and dealing with communities on other planets. Sheppard had been persuaded to ensure he had the equivalent of six months basic military training to bring him up to speed with the rest of military personnel. That was fine, thought Sheppard. No problem with that. It was the puppy-dog adulation towards Sheppard that irked. And everyone knew it irked and well, that made it more... irksome. And the peak of annoyance came when he changed his name from some unpronounceable Athosian one to John Sheppard II. Why not merely take a nickname? he had been asked. No-one could convince him just how confusing it was. Even Teyla had reminded him that his old name honoured his dead mother and father lost to the Wraith. But he was adamant. So Sheppard renamed him again. Shepto. And thankfully the name had stuck.

And now Teyla was petitioning him again to take the boy on their next mission. Which would be his first. Sheppard knew it was important to her. And for Shepto. Every new planet they did recon on was an opportunity to hear news of the lost Athosians, who had disappeared without trace on New Athosia.

"Colonel! Please! I shall personally supervise him at all times, so he…" She hesitated, unsure of the correctness of the phrase she was about to use, "…will not get in your hair." She touched Sheppard's arm. She sure knew how to melt a guy's resistance. He was aware that other Atlantis personnel were starting to stare and he blushed slightly. He looked down to Teyla, to whisper in her ear, though with some annoyance.

"Look, I dunno if _I'm _going on another mission, how can I guarantee _him _a place? And besides," he added, "I repeat what I said before, he's too young."

"On Athosia, he would already have had his rites of passage ceremony. He would be considered a man."

"Ok, he's too inexperienced then. Offworld missions are difficult enough at the moment, what with the Wraith and Replicators fighting it out and us not being able to tell who's gonna turn up where. It's no place for someone who is _inexperienced_." After the fiasco with Private Lorne, he wasn't prepared to risk Shepto as well.

"But how then, are they to gain experience if they do not go on missions?" asked Teyla.

"Ah, Catch 22."

"I am sorry? Can you explain that please?" She'd heard the Earth phrase before but could not fully remember its meaning. Sheppard, however, was no longer paying any attention. Above her head, he'd seen Lorne leaving Carter's office, face set hard. He imagined that Lorne must have glimpsed him down there as the Major looked determinedly straight ahead.

"You forget, Colonel, that he also has the Wraith Gene which you would find very useful if I… happen not to be… available." And there was that thought again. Now she was even lining up her own replacement. But he had no time to discuss it further. He quickly patted Teyla on the arm. "Gotta go!" Though damn… he was dreading this as much as any mission.

* * *

Sam Carter, typing busily at a laptop, greeted him with a half nod, not looking up from the screen. He took it to mean that he could take a seat. Which he casually flung himself into. He didn't _feel_ casual though...

"You've remembered it this time?" she asked, when she'd completed the task.

"Hmm?"

"Whatever it was that you forgot last time?" She was trying hard not to smirk.

"Oh… Oh yeah, _that_," shrugged Sheppard remembering, playing serious and frowning.

"It would have been good if you'd kept your radio on," she said with slight sarcasm.

Sheppard faked surprise. "It's not?" He mocked checking his earpiece and tapped it back on.

She knew it was all bluff… Hiding…

"I really wanted the two of you in here together." He didn't respond so she continued.

"You and Lorne have got to get along. This is not good for morale amongst the military personnel. I've even heard rumours of the men taking sides. Both of you are in danger of letting this whole affair cloud your judgements which could well jeopardize future operations."

"I've apologized… what more can I do?" He remembered that the apology had been met with stony silence, and he and Lorne had not spoken since.

He remembered too... closing a young soldier's staring dead eyes... and the body bag on the homeward trip in the Jumper...

He fell quiet, looking down at some invisible point on the table in front of him, fingering the edge absently. Anything to avoid meeting her eyes.

He swallowed hard and spoke again. Softly. "Anyhow… I guess it's not the sort of thing you can apologize for. I mean his kid brother was killed with _my_ gun. And that's _after_ I'd taken the chance and taken men across open ground. Damn! He blames me. _I_ blame me."

"You didn't know they'd discovered a way to jam your scanner." Thankfully, she reflected, McKay had also discovered how to recalibrate the detectors to prevent a re-occurrence. "My mission report completely exonerates you, John."

"For real? Are you sure it shouldn't read C, could do better?"

"He blames himself too. You know that he comes from a military family?" Sheppard nodded. "There have been soldiers in his family right back to Independence. So they are an ambitious lot. He feels responsible that he may have pushed his brother too soon in finding him a place here. He's certainly regretting it. But Private Lorne, himself, made the mistake of breaking cover early."

"Yeah, to save my butt!"

Carter ignored the interruption and continued.

"Any way, sympathy aside, he's been read the riot act. He knows the risks everyone faces here, as did his brother. There is no excuse for his current behaviour. He should be acting like the professional soldier he truly is and put personal grudges aside. I _was_ beginning to doubt that he would actually follow any of your orders."

Sheppard pulled a face. He'd doubted it too.

"I needed assurances that nothing of the kind will happen. But that doesn't let _you_ off the hook."

Sheppard looked up surprised.

"I've seen how you skulk around avoiding him."

"Skulk? I never skulk!" complained Sheppard, mildly affronted.

"Yes, skulk!" No, she was fully aware that was _not _the word she would had chosen, but this talk was never going to be easy. She was aware of losing her way, of deviating from her prepared speech. "All this… all this self-pity…" She had considered recommending sessions with Dr. Cornwell, Heightmeyer's replacement, but she knew she was wasting her time. After an incident like this, sessions were mandatory. She'd checked with Dr. Cornwell. The Colonel hadn't attended any. Neither had Lorne. She still felt unaccustomed to this role as personnel officer. Ok, sure, she'd often helped out the SG1 Team with personal problems. And she'd always had a fondness for Atlantis but she was thrown by just how frequently she now had to act as mediator. Since coming to Atlantis she'd been chomping at the bit to get offworld more. But there were too many practicalities and this was one of them. And on the scale of mediation this was a biggie. You had to be a fool not to realise how it was eating these guys up.

She took a deep breath, calming down and came out with a lame cliché. "We all make mistakes-"

"-And have to live with them."

"You're making fun."

"No. Agreeing with you." He seemed sincere enough.

"I'm simply saying that just as there appeared doubt he would actually take orders from you, it was also doubtful you would stand firm and ensure he actually followed them out of… out of this guilt thing. That's if you gave him orders in the first place! When was the last time you two actually discussed a simple procedure like duty rotas together? I shouldn't have to tell someone of your rank and experience that this all undermining your authority-"

"That won't happen," he affirmed, somewhat sullenly.

"You can't even bear to be in the same room as him!"

"It won't happen."

"Good." Satisfied, she looked at her watch and closed her laptop, standing up. She was aware of flushed cheeks and was as eager as Sheppard to end the meeting. Sheppard stood also.

"And… I promise not to skulk!" He held up one hand in a boy-scout salute. She picked up the laptop.

"And another thing?"

"Yes, ma'am?" She hesitated. Even now, using that formality, she couldn't be sure he was serious.

"There's a pre-mission briefing in the Conference Room in five minutes. Major Lorne will be there."

"Ow."

* * *

The Conference Room was yet another example of Atlantean architecture that could not fail to impress. The doors, in particular. A series of seven tall floor-to-ceiling copper coloured panels inset with smaller deep red panels that automatically pivoted on their axis on approach. Inside, blue walls with similar copper toned panels. Here and there a scattering of Ancient text and figures. Pleasant enough though the furnishings were always something of a disappointment, thought Sam. An incomplete circle of tables, with what looked like scaffolding poles for supports and legs, cut and left open at the ends. Some of room's lighting was provided by flat incubator style lamps set into the table tops. Chairs were plain and functional. But uncomfortable seating often led to shorter meetings, she found, and that was always a good thing.

The walls were crowded by a periphery of conference tools of wall charts and panels to display holographic images relayed from any terminal or laptop on Atlantis, though only one was operating at the present, showing a visual of ten slowly rotating planets, shedding a faint blue light across the faces of those already seated.

Sam was nearly the last to arrive and she could instantly sense tension in the room. Major Lorne was already there. He'd found a chair next to the two geophysicists present, well away from Colonel Sheppard's team. Uneasy glances all around. And that was the trouble with such a small community as theirs on Atlantis: everyone knew everyone's business in no time flat and Lorne's animosity towards Sheppard was certainly no secret.

Sheppard followed her into the room, nodding to Lorne as he entered.

"Major?"

"Colonel." The acknowledgement was returned, similarly curt but civil as Sheppard's but both with the hint of scolded school children about them. The relief in the room was palpable.

Once Sheppard had seated, Rodney stood and began the meeting.

"Right. On the chart…" he waved an arm in the vague direction of the fired up screen and commenced rapidly firing information at those assembled. "Ten planets. Many moons apiece. Right on the perimeter of the Pegasus. Close proximity to one another, Geophysics suggests, due to the fact that they might have formed one, or possibly two, former, much larger planets at some point. Certainly there is much asteroid activity and planetary debris in the vicinity which would underline the scenario of some cataclysmal event."

He began to pace the floor in front of the display, before resuming.

"Question. What could possibly cause said event, given that most planets are, on the whole, resilient to asteroid impacts? Answer. When geology on the planets themselves is of an highly volatile nature. Our newly improved deep space sensors have, in fact, picked up high energy signatures from these planets varying from one to another but high all the same. This suggests elevated degrees of electromagnetism. A characteristic, which when coupled with the propensity to explode is an indicator of one thing... What we think we might well be looking at here, people, is… a potential source of naquadah-"

"-or something of very similar nature," put in Radek, eyes gleaming with obvious excitement at the discovery.

"Yes. Thank you for the interruption. I _was_ going to say that," said Rodney, his sarcasm laced with pained annoyance.

"And no-one's ever noticed this before?" asked Sheppard.

"Yes! And I was going to mention _that _too! Scanning Ancient databases we were able to ascertain that the Ancients did actually send out mining expeditions to a planet they called Alora, roughly on the same co-ordinates as these planets-"

"-I repeat, and no-one's ever noticed this before?" reiterated Sheppard, with just a hint of accusation in his voice.

"Yes, I know what you're getting at," said Rodney, impatient and defensive at the same time, "yes, it's true, that when the databases were first searched, this location was overlooked and/or ignored simply on account of its location at the outermost extremities of the Galaxy. It is, um... after all, only human nature to choose easiest first. And… uh… times are… uh…getting desperate now. The reality is that we are being forced to look further a field in our quest for power sources and review a lot of those earlier files." It was the closest you could get to an apology from Rodney.

"To… uh… continue… the information is fragmentary. We can only assume that Alora was one of the planets that split up though when that was, we have no way of knowing or even if the Ancients ever returned to continue mining."

"Or if it was safe to do so," considered Sheppard.

"Well, that's what we've got to find out, Colonel!" Lorne might as well have added stupid. Or coward. Or any expletive. The tension returned to the room.

Sam coughed meaningfully. Sheppard chewed his lip and took the intended slight quietly.

"Ok," said Ronon, quickly, "What's this naquadah stuff, any how? The name's familiar."

"Naquadah is a very rare but very useful commodity. It's the stuff of Stargates. It's the stuff of power sources, second only to ZPM's. It's the stuff of… weapons." explained Radek in a hallowed tone.

"And you like that weapon bit, don't you, Colonel?" Rodney asked almost benignly.

"Yes, I do! I like that a lot," replied Sheppard, with a slow measured nod. "Y' know, the weapon like that beaming thing through a Stargate that the Asurans used, now that would be really cool!"

"Yes…well… dream on there, buddy."

Sam joined in now, having been silent so far. Rodney had, after all, already filled her in.

"I don't have to point out just how significant this is. We've always felt for some time there must be, or has been a source of naquadah in this Galaxy, simply on account of the vast numbers of 'gates in Pegasus. And a rich source at that. And, whereas, it is realised that we have engineered what is, in effect, a war between the Replicators and the Wraith that should keep the two occupied for some time to come, these two are still significant threats to peace. It is now recognised that Earth can be reached by their vessels. Simply closing our Stargate will not stop them. And we cannot continue to hold our breathe and hope that day will never come. It's always going to be a question of when, not if. Stargate Command is, therefore, proposing a line of fortress satellites, strung right across Pegasus. This is the most expedient and most cost effective means available to us at present. Weapon research, which both I, and now Rodney, have been working on, has hit nothing but dead ends. We cannot even begin to attempt matching their ships numbers. Whether or not resources will be forthcoming to finance the tremendous engineering and construction involved remains to be seen. This is going to be on a scale far greater than the building of the Earth Bridge and the Midway Station. But one thing is certain, these satellites _will_ require power and they _will_ require weapons and if resources are close to hand, so much the better."

"So, this mission? To find that out? Is important then?" concluded Ronon, after a moment's silence in the room.

"Yes. And a pretty much straight forward one. But," and Rodney paused for effect," with one fly in the ointment. And that is… only one Stargate serves all ten planets and that Stargate is… orbital." There was cruel satisfaction in saying that. He knew what Sheppard's response would be.

"I hate orbital gates!" the Colonel groaned. There was always a reason why Ancients put gates in space rather than on land and it never seemed to be a good one. Sheppard then glanced quickly at Teyla and saw her disappointment. An orbital gate lessened the chances of any Athosians being taken there, unless by starship, which was unlikely.

"Sensors indicate that it has suffered no damage and that it is fully intact and operational," provided Radek.

"And why shouldn't it be?" asked Sheppard suspiciously.

Rodney supplied the answer. "On account of its close proximity to the said exploded planet. Please keep up. Remember? We said there is a lot of space debris in the area. Hm? Asteroids? Meteoroids? Other planetary particles? Some of which might be highly explosive. So we need some very good Jumper pilots," Rodney said rather too gleefully. "You," pointing to Lorne with one hand, "and you," and Sheppard with the other.

Lorne addressed a question to Carter. "So you're sending just the two Jumpers?"

"We're hoping that The Alora Group's isolation is a factor in keeping both Wraith and Replicators away from the area. But we don't want to attract either of them by excessive Stargate activity. The plan is that the Jumpers One and Two will follow each other through the gate to keep that activity to a minimum. They'll quickly do recons on as many planets as supplies will allow and meet up at the end and re-enter again through the gate together. If anything goes wrong, assistance is also close at hand that way. It makes for longer missions, I know," she apologised. "But using two Jumpers means that we can keep the others here in reserve... Are there any other questions?"

Teyla spoke up. "If there are local indigenous people, we cannot simply move in and take what is rightfully theirs. Even the gathering of information might be deemed a threat or a trespass."

"Any problem along those lines, you obviously get back to me. Though both team leaders will have full ambassador powers to act on Atlantis' behalf in the event of any negotiations." Sheppard winced. That was not a part of his job he relished.

"Ok then… An hour should be sufficient to be ready. Supply teams are at this moment stocking up the Jumpers. Major Lorne. You'll take Radek and Dr. Chetley to carry out surveying plus three marines. Colonel, Rodney, Dr. Lindberg, Teyla, Ronon, and Shepto."

Teyla beamed Sheppard a wide knowing grin.

"Uh, she got to you, did she?!" he said. But it was good that Teyla could find something to smile about again.

* * *

"Well, that was easy enough," concluded Rodney, voicing everyone's relief that they'd just gone through the Stargate and not encountered obstacles on the other side. "See! I was right!" he said, triumphantly looking round at everyone from the co-pilot's seat.

"Don't expect applause, Rodney. You _did_ say it'd _probably_ be free of debris." Sheppard had hated the feeling of flying blind. He was reaching for the radio to contact Major Lorne.

"Yes. On account of the fact-"

Flashing red.

From the Heads Up Display.

The warning came too late. The whole windscreen shadowed with the sight of a twisting lump of blue rock, twenty times larger than the Jumper.

"What the-? Hang on tight!" yelled Sheppard as he took the Jumper hard up eighty seven degrees. In three years of piloting the Jumpers, he often wondered if you could stall these things. He still wondered after those that knew assured him it couldn't happen. And it was still hairy every time he had to test the theory out. He heard things banging and crashing in the back and prayed it wasn't people.

A long, loud terrified "Whooooaaaa!" emanated from Rodney, distracting when concentrating on preventing the Jumper going into freefall, or hitting the damn rock. But not surprising. All the scientist could see as they continued their sharp climb, was the dark pummelled surface of the asteroid. And now Sheppard had to think a back flip to avoid an enormous overhang. The HUD was emitting so many warnings it was difficult to prioritise any one of them and Sheppard found himself madly pressing buttons and controls. The whole Jumper was shuddering dangerously. Sheppard hoped it due to some sort of turbulence from the velocity of the rock passing by and not the inertial dampeners cutting, or worse still, an engine shut down. As suddenly as it had come, the danger had passed and Sheppard was able to level the Jumper out.

"You folks ok, back there?" he called over his shoulder. There was a faint murmur in reply. Still in shock then. He saw that Shepto and Ronon in the back were already re-stowing some stores that had come loose. Dr. Lindberg and Teyla sitting behind the pilot's seats, looked quite… ill. He knew that with the inertial dampeners it was technically impossible, but some people still seemed prone to motion sickness. He wondered if it's been a good idea to bring the grey-haired English professor along though he must have had the same offworld training as everyone else. He slapped at the radio pad.

"Sheppard, here. Sorry about the delay. It's _probably_ safe for you to come through now. Copy," said Sheppard scowling at Rodney.

"Probably?" came Major Lorne's reply.

"Yes. Probably. Sheppard, out." A short, blunt radio message. There was no way he was going to speak to Lorne longer than he needed to.

"Well, how was I to know that something would come hurtling along from a totally different area? Even the HUD didn't even have the chance to display. But the speed of that thing…?!"

An ashen-faced Dr. Lindberg spoke up at this point, apparently gulping hard against nausea.

"It's the variable instability of the electromagnetic fields of two of these planets, able to oscillate from one end of the scale to the other in a matter of seconds-"

"Yes! I know! I know!" cut in Rodney, impatiently, not even wishing to defer to age. "This in turn causes pole changes, shifts in axis and massive fluctuations in gravitational pull, which alone is sufficient to suck in debris and projectiles quite suddenly and without warning and at great velocities. The two in close proximity only compounds the problem. This is why those two," pointing instructively at the windshield as if a data chart, where now a myriad of differing sizes and hues of close planets loomed close, "are off the menu. It is improbable that we ever be able to approach them, let alone land or carry out mining operations. Since we have been interested in the Alora Group, even the Stargate has shifted its position four times due to gravitational pull and orbital variations alone. Which is quite curious…" he trailed off, pondering.

Sheppard could hear Teyla politely offering Dr. Lindberg a bag from under his seat, which he declined. Thankfully thought Sheppard.

"You mean it might not be in the same place when we return?" he asked, with some concern.

Rodney waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, not to a significant degree! It follows a large geosynchronous orbit around Little Alora-"

"_Little _Alora?! Who thinks of these names?" asked Sheppard screwing up his face. He'd rather have dealt with its numerical coding of MT9 143.

"Well, as a matter of fact, I did," Rodney confessed smugly, "and I thought it was appropriate... it's coming up… now. You see, it's the smallest planet of the Group."

"And the one most free of space debris due to the relatively lower gravitational pull," added Dr.Lindberg, feeling better now. "That was why Dr. McKay was correct to assume the area was probably clear of asteroids, and so forth."

"Why, thank you, Dr.Lindberg." Rodney was evidently pleased now to have found a new friend. Sheppard rolled his eyes.

"And explain why just then, we weren't 'sucked' in, as you called it?"

"That asteroid had already started its super volatile trajectory way over there and with no… brakes, so to speak, could not stop when the gravity had evidently shut down again at the moment we came through the Gate," explained Rodney.

"But it could have been different," joined in a concerned Teyla.

"Yes. There are infinite possibilities and they are all dangerous," said Rodney, rather too lightly for Sheppard's liking. "Look on the bright side, it's probably what's keeping the Wraith and Asurans out of the area."

"Probably? There you go again!"

"Yes. Probably!"

"Only mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun, eh, Colonel?" said the Professor, now able to smile at a joke that was lost in translation. He and Rodney were really well suited. They actually seemed to be enjoying all this. They saw this as a great scientific challenge. Sheppard, however, saw it as a great screen with blips that could go out at any moment.

Both scientists had picked up laptops and Rodney connected his to the HUD display that lit up instantly with wavy contour lines of the planet and masses of data coming up from the planet's crust. Ronon and Shepto had came to the front of the Jumper standing at the bulkhead doors, sharing the view that was opening up for the surveying party. Little Alora hardly seemed little any more. A vast semi-circle of blue with swirling clouds, filled the windshield, suggesting an atmosphere close in similarity to that of Earth and Atlantis. Its brightness in stark contrast to the darkness of space beyond where the shapes of two brown, pockmarked planets were merely suggested, ghostly in the light of the nearest sun. Beyond them, lay a string planets and moons. One of those was Lorne's recon. target.

And Sheppard, even after three years on this expedition, could still be filled with feelings that were little short of awestruck at such sights and such unbelievable distances. He was very young when the Apollo Programme was at its' peak and though he'd always wanted to be a pilot as a boy, he'd never had ambitions to be an Astronaut. But now he could understand what the fascination might have been for those who had. There were always those moments when you could stand aside from all the dangers and alien threats, and… have your breathe taken clean away. It was the sheer blue of it all that did it for him. Rodney had always explained that it was no more than a trick of light and eye chemistry but to drop out of black space and pass through a whole spectrum of blues, and then, as here, with Little Alora, to drop through light cloud cover, to reveal a planet covered almost entirely in ocean was… well… quite something.

Rodney was quickly running through preliminary checks. "As expected. Breathable atmosphere. Warm, temperate to tropical climate. No toxins. And… uh… no life signs. Hm." The latter he didn't expect then.

"Not surprising. It's nothing but ocean," noted Ronon.

"No. They'll be land masses somewhere I'm sure. Large oceans are not unusual in a planet with a high meteor-hit history. The gases, etcetera given off on impact, vaporize and fall as rain, to put it simply," explained Dr. Lindberg.

"Plus the fact it makes a great big hole for the rain to go in," added Sheppard, so seriously no-one could tell if he were joking or not.

"Well, yes, though I wouldn't quite put it like that…"

"How does Doctor Lindberg suggest we look for the naquadah material?" asked Teyla diplomatically The thought _had_ crossed Sheppard's mind that this was going to be like looking for a needle in a haystack, even with a planet as small as Little Alora. Damn that stupid name! The thought also occurred that this would be a good site for Atlantis if they should ever need to move again, and he hoped instantly that they wouldn't.

Rodney was answering Teyla's question.

"If the Colonel would be so kind, several orbits round at different coordinates ought to give us adequate cross section readings." McKay was _really_ trying to impress the Professor guy. It made a change that Rodney could be so... agreeable.

"Since you asked nice and polite like."

Several orbits later and the expected land mass appeared on the horizon, comprising of three close low lying islands, all rich with green vegetation and palms, fringed with idyllic golden beaches outlined by a gentle white surf that occasionally broke over scattered outcrops of bluish rock.

"Huh, will you look at that?!" Even Rodney was momentarily impressed with the view before them. "Paradise!" Pointing with a thumb through the windshield, looking back at the others. "It's straight out of a Pacific Island holiday brochure. It's a pity there's no life signs… I mean…" and he was positively drooling at the thought, "this is gotta be the place to find dark, nubile native girls."

"Yeah, but what you don't realize, Rodney, is that dark, nubile native girls tend to have dark, muscular, jealous, warrior type husbands," warned Sheppard.

"Huh, and I guess you would be talking from experience then?" replied Rodney with a bitter note of criticism. It never rested well with Rodney that Sheppard had more success with the fairer sex.

"It really is a beautiful location. It would be a great shame to mine here," observed Teyla, tactfully changing the subject again.

"Actually, someone already has," pointed out the Professor. "See there," and pointed at some of the contour lines on the HUD, "at what appears to be a deep indentation on the surface? And at another angle?" He tapped his laptop and more contours rippled across the screen. "See how on one side there appears to be a steep precipice? It was once a mining face. Now overgrown. I'm sorry to say, our efforts here today, may well have be wasted, gentlemen-and lady," he added bowing to Teyla.

"So this is the planet the Ancients mined then... and yeah, very low readings for anything resembling naquadah," agreed Rodney, gloomily. "Looks like we're going to get leftovers."

"So you don't want to do a landing?" asked Sheppard.

"May as well as we've come this far," sniffed Rodney. "Get some rock samples if nothing else. Find out what the stuff is and see if anything is worth salvaging from that mine."

* * *

Owing to the thickness of the forest, Sheppard brought the Jumper down to land on the beach. Once the hatch was open and they and their gear were offloaded, they were immediately hit by the peace and tranquillity of the place. Nothing could be heard but the soft rush of a gentle surf. The salt scent of the sea and of damp vegetation at the tree-line was little short of intoxicating after the claustrophobic atmosphere of the Puddle Jumper with the artificiality of the life support system.

"Well, this is… pleasant, "observed Sheppard, coming down the ramp, keen to stretch his legs, and checking his P90. He pulled out sunglasses and put them on.

"Yes," agreed Teyla, simply. Though he could tell from her expression that she was thinking something profound and meaningful as she gazed at their surroundings. "There is always something special about a seashore particularly when it has been untouched by human kind."

He closed the hatch and cloaked the Jumper, not wishing to take chances even here on a deserted island. Park a Jumper on an empty beach with clear skies and you might as well daub a red and white target all over it.

"Everyone try and remember where that is," he instructed, aware that this was the first offworld expedition for at least one team member. "That's your bolt hole. Let's go get rocks!" He indicated with his hand to move out, sensing a universal reluctance to leave the beach, especially for something as banal as rock samples.

"Huh! Look at that! We have a life sign. A very, very faint life sign," said Rodney airily, looking down at the Life Signs Detector in his hand.

Merely a statement of professional curiosity but the effect on his team mates was instantaneous. Before he could even finish, both he and the Professor were immediately surrounded by a cordon of four, backs turned, facing out, protecting them with weapons noisily clicking to full on.

"Where?!" demanded Ronon, scanning the trees with his gun.

"Yeah, _where_, Rodney?!" joined in Sheppard.

"Well, it's gone _now_! It only flicked on an instant. It probably never meant much. Just an anomaly caused by the electromagnetic field. I think you went a little over the top, don't you?! Not that... not that I didn't appreciate the full bodyguard treatment."

"Made you feel like Tina Turner?" insulted Sheppard, now they had all relaxed. Rodney gave him a savage glare. Sheppard ignored it. "You said a glitch? You're positive it's nothing else? Nothing like something underground and shielded?" He remembered underground-type problems from another mission and that had involved giant iratus bugs. He hated bugs, he thought with a grimace.

"No. It's just a glitch. It was so faint it couldn't be anything else. Honestly, does this look like the sort of place to put an underground facility? I don't know why I checked the detector. But I did. I wish I hadn't because now you're overreacting. And we'll probably get radio interference too, you know," he added by way of a post script.

"Well, that's good! Why wasn't _that_ mentioned before?" Now Sheppard was annoyed. "Right. Pair off. A full sweep of the beach and two hundred metres into the treeline."

"Oh for heaven's sake, Sheppard! We're after rocks on a lonely planet! You do this and we won't get back before dark!"

"Look, how do we know someone isn't _trying_ to interfere with the scanner?"

"I know because I fixed it and that can't happen!" Despite Rodney's protests, everyone grudgingly paired off and selected a strip to search.

Sheppard could see it in their eyes that they all agreed with Rodney. If they thought he was being unreasonable or vindictive, he couldn't afford to care. Had they forgotten he'd lost a man on his last mission? Perhaps it was because they knew that they'd resignedly followed the order...

He took Professor Lindberg with him, being the least experienced member of the team, and after a predictable fruitless hour of searching met up with the others again back at the Jumper. Little was said.

Rodney was actually tactful for once and refrained from pointing out the time that had been wasted. Picking up equipment again that had been left near the Jumper, they proceeded in single file through the forest towards the mine.

* * *

Making their way through the thick greenery, they made little noise. The forest seemed to more than compensate, what with the alarmed cries of birds, and the frantic rustled escape of small animals in the undergrowth, startled by their approach. Every sound made Sheppard tense, bringing up his P90 in an instant to scan the shadows. He wondered if there were any snakes or lizards. He wondered if there were any _poisonous _snakes or lizards. They'd walked with little conversation now for a mile or so. Not since the last time Rodney had reported yet another blip on the LSD and that had been ten minutes into the hike. He was being forced to inwardly admit he was getting creeped out by those earlier life sign readings. He was getting a spidey sense that they were being stalked. And that feeling only intensified the deeper into the forest they walked. The former sullenness of his team had, however, disappeared, replaced by a markedly more leisurely mood. Sheppard was glad they were quiet but they were quiet for the wrong reasons. He noted with annoyance that no-one else in the team was being nearly as alert as they should have been. Was no-one going to take this seriously? The genial surroundings of the island and of the forest had lulled them into a false sense of security.

He had opted uncharacteristically to guard their six so the team was in full view. Directly in front, Teyla. Looking up, appreciatively, at the forest canopy. A kaleidoscope of greens moving gently in a soft warm breeze and sparkling bright and yellow in the sunlight, coloured further by pinks and purples of swarms of butterflies.

The forest was a curious mixture of delicate temperate trees and broad-leaved tropical plants that Dr. Lindberg had said do not normally co-exist. If the incidence of flora was all they had to worry about, then they were doing fine, thought Sheppard.

Next, came Dr. Lindberg, with a long careful stride, looking down in case he should trip, which he might well do considering all the equipment Rodney had offloaded onto him. McKay, chomping away at a power bar, smiling to himself, no doubt still dreaming of native girls. Second in line was Shepto, looking back from time to time, smiling and waving at him. Sheppard sighed. Clearly there was something the youth had missed in training. Sheppard imagined Lorne's team right now, and how it'd be moving through a forest such as this, sharp, precise and professional. And the image galled. Finally, up front, Ronon, taking point, his sword out, taking an occasional lifeless swipe at a lush vegetation to hack a path for the others to follow, but clearly bored and frustrated as there was so little to do. That should have rung alarm bells. With few obstacles, the path they were on resembled a path cleared regularly by a whole hoard of park rangers. And Sheppard doubted there were any of those here. This was starting to resemble a Sunday School nature trip.

And then McKay started to hum. Tunelessly.

"Ok! That's it! Just stop!" he ordered.

"What?! You don't like my humming?!" said Rodney, affronted. "But I always hum when I'm happy."

"We have not heard you hum before," observed Teyla. Well, that opened it up for Rodney. Thanks Teyla.

"Huh… perhaps you've not considered that's because I'm seldom happy," began Rodney's complaint. "All the things- "

"-No! I mean you all stop! Stop walking! Right now!" They did so, turning round to look at Sheppard with some surprise. McKay threw him a look as if to say 'oh no and what's his problem now?' Their glances made him feel suddenly sheepish. He'd probably overreacted. _Again_.

"Look, I know we're only after rock samples, but lets try a be a little more… a little more... on the ball."

"On the ball?" blinked Ronon. "That's football talk, right?" He remembered it from nights spent with Sheppard watching the Colonel's exhaustive collection of football DVDs.

"And it means…?" asked Sheppard, nodding encouragement.

"We should be more attentive to the mission before us," completed Teyla, quickly grasping the problem.

"Thank you!"

"We are sorry, Colonel. It will not happen again."

"And perhaps it wouldn't be too much trouble for some regular updates from the _person _with the scanner?" said Sheppard, his voice rising.

"Me?" Rodney pointed to himself. "Yes, of course," hastily stuffing a half eaten power bar into one pocket of his tac vest and grappling with another pocket to extricate the LSD. "No. Still nothing. Look. I told you, that time before was just a glitch. See." He held up the blank screen of the detector for Sheppard to view. "Nothing. Nothing in the Jumper. Nothing now."

"You don't think its being jammed?" Sheppard persisted.

"No!"

"Why?"

"It can't be jammed!"

"Why?"

"Because I fixed it so it can't! Will you stop with the paranoia!" Rodney was about to launch into a not unusual litany of complaint, of how trivial and tedious it was to continually refer to a scanner that was obviously malfunctioning, when something caught his eye in the undergrowth...

Everyone immediately followed his gaze. To see a blue obelisk-like stone standing in the trees and bushes directly to their right. Sheppard reckoned it stood about two and a half metres high and measured a metre at its base. Its size wasn't striking. Its many grotesque gargoyle carvings of contorted faces, with grossly extended tongues, _were _, however. As were the intertwined, twisting, writhing lizard-like creatures. As were the abundance of protruding hands. He saw Teyla shiver.

"I hope this is not a warning of some sort," she murmured.

"At least it's not a shrunken head on a stick, then I'd be worried," said Sheppard.

"It wasn't much of a warning. The people who lived here and made this thing were obviously culled by the Wraith," Ronon said bitterly.

"It's probably a marker of some kind. Even a phallus symbol." Rodney's tone was dismissive. Carved nick-nacks were of no interest to him.

"A what-symbol?" smiled Ronon roguishly. Rodney sighed, exasperated. It was like being surrounded by children.

"It's a curious juxtaposition of ideas without a doubt. It bears a strong similarity to our ancient Mayan or Aztec cultures. But notice the many hands… several are in a position of supplication, of prayer which suggests a Medieval ecclesiastic origin," explained Dr. Lindberg.

Shepto walked forward to touch.

"Hey, that's not a good idea," cautioned Ronon, making to pull him back by the shoulder. But Shepto had already placed his hand on the upturned palm of one of the hands.

"What? You think its booby trapped, Indiana Jones?" jibed Rodney. Ronon grinned. The insult was lost. He had seen those Earth films and thought they were damned good.

"It sort of draws you to it," said the young soldier, now stroking one of the lizards, "it is really well carved."

Teyla, overcoming her initial fear, approached the structure too, and looked up to the top with equal admiration, also touching one of the hands.

"Yes, well, when you've all quite finished with your anaesthetic appreciations, perhaps we can quickly take some pictures for Archeology and move on with the more pressing agenda for the day. Hm?" Rodney was busy extracting a camera from the pack on Dr.Lindberg's back.

Sheppard and Ronon, meanwhile, took out water bottles and walked round the obelisk, drinking.

Rodney busied himself with his pictures and the others also took a break.

"So, what's up?" Ronon asked Sheppard, always sensitive to a fellow soldier's unease.

"I dunno. Just get the creepy feeling we're being watched. It's probably just me." He poked at the Obelisk with a tentative finger. Ronon saw his reservations about touching the thing. It was Rodney's suggestion of a phallic symbol that had done it for him. Ronon dared him with a look and placed his hand firmly on one of the stone hands, taunting Sheppard to do the same. There was no way that Sheppard was going to be outdone and followed suit.

"Happy?"

Ronon grinned back, taking a swig from his bottle. "I still win," he said.

"How?!"

The big guy shrugged. "I did it first." Rodney had completed his video and it was time to move on again.

"Now that's not logical!" They began stowing their bottles away. "Hey, Ronon," asked Sheppard, breaking off his own protest, whispering so the others couldn't hear, "when you touched that thing… did you get a… buzzing feeling in your hand." He felt awkward. Since the thing might be… well, it was a sort of guy to guy question. And… delicate...

"Buzzing?" he looked at Sheppard curiously.

"Yeah."

Ronon's pause was overlong.

"No," and the Satedan walked off to his position at the front again, swinging his sword in one hand and his pack in the other. It was often no good hoping Ronon would say anymore than yes or no to a question.

* * *

Only ten minutes of further trekking and Ronon suddenly made a fist, pointing to an area of thinning trees up ahead. The four soldiers among them again prepped their weapons and Sheppard ran forward noiselessly, head low, to join Ronon up front to take a closer look, signalling to the two scientists to get down. Shepto fell back to Teyla's side to guard the rear. He'd already seen what Ronon had spotted to cause him to bring them all to a halt. Both Ronon and Sheppard threw themselves onto the ground at the last tree before a clearing.

And in that clearing sat a massive structure resembling a ruined Mayan temple. Which was remarkable enough. Except… this was shimmering the brightest turquoise blue ever.

"Wow! That's different," whispered Sheppard. "How did we miss _that_ from the Jumper?"

"I dunno. It must have been cloaked?" hissed back Ronon.

"With trees? And who'd want to cloak a ruin?And who uncloaked it and why uncloak it now?" Sheppard tapped his earpiece. "Rodney!" There was nothing but static. He needed Rodney to check for life signs so he signalled for the others to join them.

"You didn't do it? You didn't uncloak it?" asked Ronon while they waited.

"Me?"

"When you touched the obelisk thing? That buzzing… Perhaps the Ancient gene…?" The others were at their side.

"God! It must be pure naquadah! The temple-thingy! The temple-thingy… had to… have been… cloaked!" Rodney said, unable to hide his excitement even though out of breath.

"Yes, we've been through all that," said Sheppard with some impatience.

"And ingeniously too. Holographs used to simulate vegetation so the clearing is never visible. That's good." It was seldom that Rodney would admit to the other guys' genius. "We perhaps initiated de-cloaking back at the obelisk or-"

"-we're being invited in." And Sheppard always had a policy of not accepting invitations from total strangers.

"What? They've checked us over, and now allowing us in - for whatever reason?" Ronon didn't like the sound of that.

"Either way, there has to be a power source," theorised Rodney, with that all too familiar glint of greed that came with any hint of the existence of a ZPM. He was always very open to consider alternatives too.

"You want us to go and look this over?" asked Ronon.

"But this obviously isn't Ancient stuff, so there won't be Ancient technology," pointed out Sheppard.

"And you were the one who had insisted we should get to the mine and back to the Jumper by nightfall?" posed Teyla.

"Ye-es," hesitated Rodney, catching the others' reservations.

"Humour me and just check for life signs again," Sheppard asked Rodney. Rodney held up a dead screen for him to look at again.

"That doesn't prove anything, does it?... Well, let's go," concluded Sheppard with a sigh. "If they were going to shoot us they would have done so by now. But be it on you head, Rodney."

"That's it! Blame me already, why don't you?!" protested Rodney as they gathered their gear.

Ronon and Sheppard took point again with Teyla and Shepto at the rear. All cautiously approaching the building, out onto level ground. Sheppard hated this degree of exposure. The utter quiet, however, suggested, falsely or not, that this place had been untouched by any human hand for many centuries. He felt the incongruity of it all; a bunch of guys with primed guns whilst all round birds sung, butterflies flew and a soft breeze rustled in the nearby trees.

The construction was set on a small hill, with a scree slope falling away steeply on three sides, possibly down to a stream as the noise of water over rocks was clearly audible, adding to the peace and tranquillity of the place. Up close they could appreciate its solid massiveness, for it seemed to have been hewn from solid rock. It was easily the equivalent of four levels at Atlantis, though built with only two stories. Topped with a flatish pyramid. There was no apparent entry to the lower storey, the top only being accessible by an enormous flight of wide steps on the fourth side of the building. Floor to ceiling open doorways acted for windows on the upper floor, one of which provided access out onto a spacious balcony or platform, presumably overlooking the stream valley below.

Having reached the bottom of the steps, they paused and Sheppard indicated to Teyla to remain as guard a short distance away to keep the top of the staircase in full view. She was the best choice to remain outside, owing to her Wraith sense and experience.

The others made their way up the steep climb, the soldiers among them scanning left, right and upwards with their weapons. Occasionally, they would turn to scour the surrounding countryside, though Sheppard was forced to inwardly concede it was also partly to admire the view which was getting more spectacular by the minute. Three-quarters of the way up and the distant shoreline could be seen through the treetops. It was nearly as good as flying.

They reached the summit to face a large doorway with carvings down either side, though not nearly as elaborate as those on the obelisk. Sheppard beckoned the scientists, both breathless and perspiring, and Shepto to take cover here whilst he and Ronon checked out the large hallway beyond, hugging the walls for protection.

Instant darkness and coolness inside. Sheppard flicked on the light of his P90. He'd taken the LSD from Rodney and held it close to the light. It was being downright irritating and showing a blank screen again. The thick dust underfoot alone confirmed though that this place had been abandoned long ago. Greying plaster clung to the walls in fragments with traces of highly coloured paintings of flowers and strange peacock-like birds but these were decayed and peeling and added to the debris on the floor. Sheppard even thought he caught sight of the odd glint of inlaid gems or precious metals.

Several doorways led off to the right to small chambers, which Ronon systematically investigated one by one while Sheppard covered. This was more like how things should be done reflected Sheppard thinking back to the earlier charade.

"They're all empty," said Ronon. "I mean there's nothing at all. McKay won't be pleased." He paused. "You still feeling twitchy?" Despite his taciturnity, there wasn't much the Satedan missed. He knew from his own experience that once you started to feel that way it was difficult to shake it off. Sheppard shrugged, "I just wish we could account for those life signs." They kept their voices low but they still sounded strange and echoey, which didn't help with the creepy sensation one bit.

"Better bring Rodney and Lindberg in." He figured they'd be safer in the hall than out.

At the end of the hallway, were interior steps descending down to the lower level and facing these was a large entrance leading out to the platform. From there Sheppard was able to guard the stairway, platform and hallway while Ronon indicated to the scientists.

"Sorry, Rodney it might be video only again. We've yet to check down below. But it's not looking hopeful. The place is deserted." Both Rodney and Dr. Lindberg produced and switched on a flashlight apiece.

"There has to be something. You can't produce a cloaking device out of nothing, whoever or whatever activated it," said Rodney scornfully.

"Perhaps it wasn't cloaked. Perhaps we really did miss it from the Jumper. They're pretty tall trees you know," suggested Ronon. Rodney looked at him scathingly. Sheppard had gone out onto the platform, squinting in the bright sunlight, to wave Teyla up to the top of the entrance steps to replace Shepto who came in to rejoin the scientists.

"You're welcome to double check while we're downstairs."

On the lower floor, though darker, pitch dark, in fact, and with the musty smell of unaired and unlit space, the story, as expected, was much the same. There were many more rooms but all were empty.

"The floor is solid rock," observed Ronon, stamping a foot.

"No need to worry about something underground then." Sheppard felt foolish though he knew Ronon hadn't implied anything. The guy was earnestly trying to reassure him. They returned to the others. Rodney was taking pictures with little enthusiasm and a lot of grumpiness.

"We've found inscriptions on the wall. It bears a similarity to Ancient but we don't understand a word. Probably some fable…" He knew he wouldn't be finding databases or technology in a building with fairy tales on the walls. "We can go downstairs now?" he looked hesitantly at the stairwell which still looked dark even when lit up with his flashlight. Dr. Lindberg went first.

"Looks a little mouldy and damp," said Rodney cautiously, obviously making a mental list of the thousand and one micobes he was likely to pick up.

Sheppard understood and shook his head. "You'll be fine."

Assured, Rodney started to descend the steps. "Just watch out for the snakes, though!" Sheppard shouted after him. Ronon smirked.

"Oh, Ha! Ha! Always got to be funny, haven't you, Sheppard!" Rodney shouted back. But Sheppard knew he'd set the seeds of doubt and could picture just how uncomfortable Rodney would be down there.

He told Ronon and Shepto to go with the two men, saying that he would go back out onto the platform to look around outside. Wandering out into the bright sunshine, he found his sunglasses again and put them on. He sort of regretted it. The view with its vibrant greens was a little lost through them. He was aware of his grip relaxing and loosening on his P90. It nearly felt wrong to be carrying a gun here. The breeze strengthened suddenly stirring up the dust and sending a low eerie howl through the empty hallway behind. He ran a hand through his thick black hair ruffled by the wind. He found himself reminiscing on his days in the Antarctic at the Stargate Base, when this expedition to the Pegasus Galaxy had begun. How a cold wind would stir up the snow with that same eerie sound, and how the snowy landscape beyond, like the treescape here, soaked up and muffled all noise to render the world so perfectly peaceful-

"Dr. McKay says that if this had been a Mayan or… Aztec Temple back on Earth, then this platform would be the place they made sacrifices." Shepto had returned from the bottom storey and had followed Sheppard as far as the doorway. "He said those people were worse than the Wraith. But he said the pictures would also have been different. Like our cave paintings on Athosia. They would be… quite graphic. Blood dripping from ripped-out hearts… I did not know you had people like that on Earth."

"Don't let the big nasty scientist man scare you, kiddo. That was a long time ago." He wasn't about to go into all the atrocities that had been committed on his world through the centuries since. Why break the young soldier's illusions? Though he must have already guessed. A planet with fully weaponised armies just had to have issues to work out. Shepto took another step out.

"But wow!" an Earth word he'd picked up, probably from Sheppard. "What a view! It really is paradise, isn't it, Colonel!"

"No. No snow," said Sheppard softly, leisurely walking to the edge of the platform, looking down at the rocky slope and the stream glistening far below. Shepto didn't hear. He was calling to Ronon and the others who could be heard coming back up the stairs.

"Hey! Dex! Come and look at this!" Ronon came over to the doorway, with an anticipating look and then frowned, glancing over Shepto's shoulder.

"I thought the Colonel was with you?"

"He is," said Shepto, but turned to see an empty platform.


	3. Chapter 3

_So I didn't kill off Lorne, but his kid brother instead. And it's leaving him rather bitter and not thinking straight. It's often the way when you lose someone close, that you find someone else to blame and lash out at... and Lorne is only human after all... but he'll come round... eventually... coz he's just that kind of guy... in the meantime, I need him to mess up... _

_...right now, though... some Shep Whump..._

* * *

Chapter Three

The sound of the stream washing and rippling over rocks was much louder now.

"Is this the one?" said a voice.

"To my sorrow, yes. This should not have happened. The systems have corrupted. Too much time has passed."

A rustling of clothing. The sensation of a gentle touch.

"And they call him?"

"John Sheppard." Distant shouting. Coming closer.

"The others will be here shortly."

"They are from Atlantis." A hint of regret in the voice. "It is fate."

Agreement from the other.

"Follow and observe. Intervene only if necessary. We cannot lose him again."

* * *

Ronon reached him first. Teyla not far behind.

Ronon had sprinted past her at the Temple door.

"Sheppard!" he had shouted back to her. His one word of explanation.

She didn't need telling twice to move. Only moments before she had spotted the cloud of dust on the far slope.

They both half slid and half vaulted down the rocky slope sending off avalanches of loose debris finding it difficult to come to a stop when they reached Sheppard's body.

Bloodied. Still. And broken. Torn, soiled uniform. Half buried in rocks and gravel.

His right arm laying at the stream's edge. Teased by blue water rapidly turning crimson.

They were quickly down on their knees, clawing away at the stones. Teyla… felt for a pulse on Sheppard's neck.

"He's alive! And still breathing!" she said, with her own breathless relief.

Ronon looked at her. He might as well have said: For how long? Or, call that breathing? Gravelly. Then a memory... Fallen comrades in battle had sounded like that. And Melena had always explained it was when a lung was seriously damaged. And there were always funerals soon after...

Ronon's instinct was to haul Sheppard over his shoulder and get him back to the Jumper.

"No!" It was Dr. Lindberg running and stumbling down the slope with Shepto. "No! You mustn't move him!"

"He is right, Ronon. Such injuries as these…" Teyla shook her head with dismay, "he may have hurt his back."

"What do we do then?"

Rodney was the last to arrive. Paled at the sight of Sheppard on the ground. And nearly speechless. "His arm..." He swallowed hard. His mouth set in a thin line. He glanced up at the Temple, nearly hidden from view from down here in the valley. Unable to comprehend that Sheppard had just effectively crashed down the whole two hundred metres from the top. This was Sheppard… who always seemed so invulnerable… and stopped stuff like this from happening.

Dr. Lindberg was now kneeling at Sheppard's right side, unmindful of the splashing shallow water soaking his BDUs and boots, and tipping out the contents of his bag onto the drier land. "Rodney must fetch the Jumper here." He spat out the wrapper of a dressing he'd torn open with his teeth.

"It'd take over a hour!" pointed out Teyla, desperately. "I do not think he will…" she could not finish, though the words were in her mind. _I do not think he will live that long_.

Dr.Lindberg, despite his age, hauled off his tee shirt to use as a dressing on the Colonel's right arm. The field bandages that everyone were handing him just weren't enough.

Talking as he tried to stem the bleeding.

"It'd take two hours if we were to carry him. And we would have to make an appropriate stretcher first. Teyla. You need to put pressure... there. And hold it... there." And he guided her hand to the wad of clothing on Sheppard's arm. So he could tie off with a strip of dressing. "Shepto? We need more dressings." Shepto understood, quickly removing his vest and tee shirt, to hand the shirt over to the Professor.

Rodney watched stupidly as Sheptoo stripped down. Looked at a shocked Teyla. Looked at Ronon, staring. The Team had frozen. Rodney wasn't the only one. How many missions had they been on? Why weren't they prepared for this?

"You, er, want me to try the radio?" offered Rodney. Feeling so useless. So inadequate. He hadn't asked anyone in particular. Though Dr.Lindberg seemed to have taken charge. They needed Lindberg. Suddenly relied on him.

And Rodney couldn't look... couldn't look at Dr. Lindberg's bloodied hands as he worked. Talk. Talk. Anything but look. "It's a long shot... Too much static, like I said... Atlantis... Or Lorne even... He could be here in less than forty minutes. His planet was further away so he shouldn't be far from the Jumper." He was thinking out loud really. In a detached sort of way. Numb. A feeling of waiting for something to happen. Wishing and waiting for someone to tell him that this wasn't happening.

He took out a handheld radio.

"Atlantis. This is Team Sheppard. Do you copy?" There was silence. He clicked the button again. "Team Lorne. This is Team Sheppard. Do you copy?" Again silence. He tried it twice more. "Not even static… Like I said, a long shot... I'm... er... wasting time. I'd better get…running then."

"I'll come with you," volunteered Ronon, standing, able to stir into action again.

"Try again!" gasped Sheppard. "Try the damn radio again!" And they all looked at him with shocked surprise. "Don't–make-me-repeat…" He could speak no more. His painful breaths came short and rasping.

"Atlantis. This is Team Sheppard. Do you copy?... Team Lorne. This is Team Sheppard. Do you copy?"

And again.

"Atlantis. This is Team Sheppard. Do you copy?... Team Lorne. This is Team Sheppard. Do you copy?"

"Lorne here. You have a problem? Over."

"We have a medical emergency. We're an hour or so from the Jumper. How soon could you get here? Over."

"Half an hour. We haven't landed yet. Blizzards down on the ground. We were about to abort and move on. Give us your co-ordinates." Rodney did so.

"Who's the emergency?"

Rodney felt some reluctance to give a name. "Colonel Sheppard. Out." Lorne failed to reply, which took away their initial relief at getting through.

"Think he'll come?" asked Ronon. No one wanted to answer him. They turned their attention to Sheppard who was attempting to speak again.

"Did… you… see…" he stopped. Coughing. Blood at his lips now. Body racked by pained spasms.

"You must lie still and not attempt to talk," urged Teyla.

"…two…guys? …was…right... was... some... one... here..."

"Sheppard! Sheppard! Did they push you? Did they do this to you?" Ronon back down on his knees.

"Cold... so cold..." And then nothing... and he was still again.

Ronon stood, scanning the area around them. He couldn't see how anyone could have gotten so close to Sheppard on that platform without being seen. Or heard. Or that Sheppard wouldn't have put up a fight.

"Did you see anyone?" he checked with the others, and they all shook their heads. "I'm going to look round," he said grimly. If payment was due, he was damned well sure someone was gonna get paid.

And he knew he didn't want to stay here. Waiting…

Already the half-breaths. The long pauses. Half-breaths. Expecting each one to be the last…

* * *

Sheppard could not tell where the dream ended, where the nightmare started or where reality filtered through.

He was falling.

Falling and the blue, blue sky went black. Asteroids. That came at him. But then rocks. Rocks than crushed like asteroids and took his breath away. Except he had no breath. He was spinning, spinning and rolling and his mouth was filling with dust. And the rocks cut like knives.

And he could not breath because the rocks were piling fast up on his chest.

He was begging Dr. Keller not to do something. And she stood there, Wraith like, with a blood-dripping knife. And he was bound and could do nothing. Like a sacrifice...

His whole world dissolved into white light. I'm not ready for that. I'm not ready to… Hell! I'm just not ready to die!

Someone was calling. "Eliosus! Eliosus! Come!" Who the hell was _Eliosus_?

Someone was calling and it was a beautiful woman walking out of the white light. Calling for Eliosus. Desperately calling. And McKay said: "What is it with you and Ascended women?" And Sheppard said: "I'm not Eliosus. And there's no point asking an Ascended One for help. They never help." Then he followed the robed man. Who the hell was _he_? Out onto an Atlantis balcony. Where had _he_ appeared from? A cooling breeze and the silence of the city at night. "Ah, Atlantis! The view from here has always been magnificent." "I'm dying and you're talking Real Estate?!" "But you're not going to die, are you John?" "I'm not?"

The man stood in a golden glow. John looked at his hands and they glowed golden too.

And there were trees. And the light shone golden through the trees.

* * *

And the pain came back.

And he was sure this was real.

A real Infirmary. With real pain. That ripped up through his right side. And a woman's voice calling. That was Teyla. But he couldn't tell her. Couldn't tell her… The pain of all Ronon's knives. The pain of Wraith feeding… The choking in his throat… Gagging on dry dust?… gagging on tubing that blocked his words… how much it hurt… and he couldn't run… or move… only a tight grasp on her hand… like her fingers would break…so grateful… there… tears… he knew he was gonna die… he knew he was gonna die and couldn't tell her… couldn't tell her… those last… words…

* * *

"But you're not going to die, are you. John?" "I'm not?"

The man stood in a golden glow. Sheppard looked at his hands and they glowed golden too.

"I haven't gone and ascended?" The glowing man smiled and that was annoying. Then Sheppard said: "I recognize your voice. You were at the Temple. How did you get here?" "In your mind." "Like hitched a ride?" "Less attention than through the 'gate." "And the woman too?" "Yes. Do you remember her?" "No. I should?" "Yes. Try and remember her." "Why?" "She is your wife." He saw his ex-wife. No. That wasn't her. He saw Keller then. And Carter. And McKay. All hiding in the shadows. Hell! They were spying. McKay was beckoning. "You don't need them. Don't I always get you out of trouble? This way. Quick." And there was Keller. A kind face. But that knife was still dripping. John turned his back on the man. And the man began to plead with him. "Don't deny her! Don't deny her!"

And Carter stood alone. Silent for hours.

And then spoke. "Stay. It'll be good for us. Science hasn't all the answers." McKay again. From nowhere. "How can _you _say that of all people?!" A forest of people he knew and had known. A forest of Elizabeth Weirs. A forest of hundreds of Teylas. A forest of hundreds of Ronons. He tried to focus to drive them all away. This _had _to be the meds. he was on. He'd wake up soon...

And light shone through the trees...

And. This. Was. Not. Good.

He was aware of the softness of a bed. That was good. But all other sensations were decidedly bad. He knew if he moved it'd probably hurt. And if it didn't hurt, it'd be so stiff there was little point trying to move. At least he was no longer the star competitor in Let's-see-who-can-roll-down-a-rocky-slope-the-furthest-and-hardest Competition. He knew he was the clear winner but it'd been just too hairy to go on to the second heats.

He was back at Atlantis then. That was good too. If he could only get rid of the headache and the oxygen thingy that was irritating his face, then that would be better than ever.

Voices close by. One was Dr. Keller.

"This is impossible. There must be something wrong with the monitor."

"I know. That's why I called you over. But the scanner too?"

And the voices faded away as he dosed.

Aware of movement beside him. Time to try and open those eyes then. But, like the rest of him, they were too heavy and lazy. A needle in the left arm soon flinched them open. His intended vociferous 'ow' was a mere muffled groan, however.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" asked Dr. Keller, with a nice load of sympathy. That was also good.

His response was another hazy moan. Painkillers were also good. But they didn't make for intelligent conversation. He could hear her busy with the medical equipment beside his bed. He tried focussing on the Infirmary with little success. Everything a blur. And still the headache from hell. Even his eyeballs hurt in their sockets. Medical tape pulled tight across his cheek and temple. The all-too familiar feel of stitches. And attempts to lift his head and discover which parts of his body were still intact also met with failure.

A neck brace restricted his movement.

He felt that must be bad.

The heart monitor missed, what, three or four beats. He quickly tried his toes. And those on his left foot moved. And his knee hurt. Ok, then...

"Hey... you in pain? I've adjusted your meds. You should feel more comfortable," offered Dr.Keller.

He concentrated hard to formulate a coherent sentence. But what came out was a weird cross between a hoarse gasp and a croak.

"You were intubated," she explained. "You'd like some water? You must have a throat like a cheese grater." And Keller reached for one of those special cups with the spout. And he was grateful but felt like a kid of three again.

"I... I wake up in this place too many times," he managed to slur, when he'd finished.

"Your file _is_ starting to run into gigabytes," agreed the Doctor, wrily smiling.

"I dreamt you were going to cut off my arm," he joked.

She made no reply and looked somehow… evasive. A sudden hot panic turned in his stomach. He struggled to raise his head again. The heart monitor going crazy now.

Keller saw his alarm and tried to hold him back. "No. No. The arm's ok. It was a close call. But… you're responding well to treatment."

But he'd caught a glimpse of what he wanted to see. His right arm encased in thick bandages resting on a pillow. Relieved, he let his head fall back, allowing his quick, heavy breaths to slow and swallowing hard before he dared speak again.

"Why... Why can't I feel...?"

"I'm sorry... John... there's some nerve injury... you'll probably need more surgery on that arm-"

"More?" he gasped.

Dr. Keller pursed her lips and nodded. This was the part of her job that she hated.

"I'll get to use it again, right?"

"It's too soon to say..." He closed his eyes. And without opening them, spoke in a low whisper. "What's... what's the rest of the damage then?"

"The list is pretty extensive."

"I'm not going anywhere."

She took a breath. "We believe the right hand side must have take the full brunt of the fall as injuries there are the most severe. Two fractures to the right tibia. Fracture to the right femur. Fracture to the right pelvis. Secondary internal haemorrhaging in the right pelvic area. Bruising in the area of, and possible injury to the lumber vertebrae. Some damage to the liver. Three broken ribs, one of which punctured the right lung. When you think that you were wearing a vest… Fractured right clavicle. Dislocated shoulder. Fractured left wrist. Whiplash. Mild concussion. " She remembered Ronon saying that somehow Sheppard must have instinctively managed to keep his arms over his head in protection. "One day, I'm just going to insist you all wear hard hats on missions... General contusions and lacerations. And then the right arm…" She trailed off.

She knew he would be his usual stoic self. This was one hell of a thing to come to terms with. These injuries would probably mark the end of his time at Atlantis. Even his career. She'd run through the list in layman's terms, but in any one's language, he was pretty well screwed up. Though... there was something else wrong...

He opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling.

"Crap," he then said quietly.

"You were in severe trauma… in theatre twice… we nearly lost you… twice… the second time with the haemorrhage… you were lucky-"

"-Yeah, that's one thing I'm feeling now, lucky."

Dr. Keller could understood his bitterness but she could offer nothing more than the usual medical platitudes. "You mustn't think too much about anything. Just about getting well again," patting his good arm in a doctor comforting sort of way.

"When do I get shipped out?" The question startled her in its abruptness. She wasn't expecting him to be quite so immediately direct and pragmatic.

"Not any time yet. I'm… er… proposing to keep you here for medical observations for a while longer… so we're stuck with you." She smiled weakly.

"Diplomat as well as a doctor eh? Look, I'm… I _was _the military commander. I know the drill. Hell, I've signed off more than my share of guys. Anyone needing long term care…" But there she was again. Eyes not meeting his. Being evasive.

"Hey, there's something you're not telling me!"

"No."

"I'm not gonna die, or anything…?" He'd much rather face up to it sooner or later.

"Oh no, nothing like that. I'm expecting you to make a complete recovery."

"Just not up to military standards."

"I dunno… Like I said, it's too soon to say. But… convalescence is going to be a long haul. I can't kid you about that. You really mustn't worry about anything. Just rest… though," she hesitated, "at this point, we usually suggest counselling? Yes. I know." She rolled her eyes. He was being so predictable and was about to cut her dead. "You're going to say no. But if you need anyone to talk to… need anything…" She was painfully aware that she wasn't being very good at this.

"A favour? Yeah. You don't tell the others. You don't tell them I'm going to have to leave."

"If that's what you want… but they will eventually find out."

"But not now…" And he closed his eyes again. He couldn't cope with that yet.

And Dr. Keller left, with one last reassuring pat, knowing he was fighting back tears.

Damn, this was so unfair! And the irony wasn't lost on him. Since he'd come through the Stargate that first time, he faced the Wraith, the Replicators, the Genii, and different viruses of one description or another and come through it all relatively unscathed. And then to fall off a _wall_…

Suddenly his mind was racing over the options. And he didn't like any of them. He faced a bleak future at a desk on some backwater airbase. Or worse, living on a military pension as a security guard in some shopping mall. Or go back, cap in hand to his father… He gritted his teeth. Damn. He'd make sure he got fit enough to fly somehow. But no one shipped out of Atlantis ever came back…

Voices were heard on the other side of the Infirmary. And Dr. Keller returned.

"You up for visitors?"

He merely nodded. She felt he'd much rather be left alone. But he was going to put a brave face on. _Again_.

"Only five minutes. He needs the rest." Dr. Keller informed Teyla and Ronon. And that seemed a stupid thing to say. Colonel Sheppard was now oddly as lucid as if he'd just walked in with a sprained ankle. And that's why she needed to talk with Sam Carter.

Colonel Carter and Rodney were also approaching the Infirmary. Rodney was clearly audible. "…and I conclude that the Temple was probably nothing more than a garden feature of the Ancients, to facilitate meditation and hence Ascension, rather like the Sanctuary on M18 RVX. The English have a word for it. A folly. It really is not worth a second look."

Rodney stopped at the doorway to the Infirmary. Hesitant. Even now. At this point. Here. He could easily have made his excuses and left. He hated being near sick people. An awkwardness. Never knew what to say. Never knew what was the _correct _thing to say. Not like Teyla. She always knew. And so he talked a lot. About anything. Anything rather than think about the gravity of the situation. Which was why he was talking a lot now. It was always this bad when people were relative strangers. And it was slightly worse when they _weren't_ strangers and were only slightly ill. But when the person concerned was… and they were… well, he was then capable of freezing… like now. And he'd only just gotten over Katie Brown being that ill. He just didn't want to see… didn't want to see Sheppard looking that bad…

Sam stopped too. A couple of steps ahead. And looked back at him. She understood. Sam was like Katie Brown in that respect.

"It'll be fine, Rodney," she said softly. "We're all here. And he really is over the worse now."

"Yes. Yes. Of course."

"I couldn't have a word?" interrupted Dr. Keller, who'd come over. Rodney, heading towards Sheppard's bed, was looking back in desperation. A new worry. He was mouthing the words: you're not going to leave me with _those_ two? Sam waved him on encouragingly and mouthed back: you'll be alright.

"Teyla and Ronon still not talking?" Carter shook her head and then turned her attention to what Dr. Keller had to say.

"Teyla. Ronon. Rodney." Sheppard tried nodding to each in turn, difficult with the brace, and a throbbing head. He winced, and then immediately sensed the tension. The scowl Ronon gave Teyla and the frown Teyla gave Ronon were dead giveaways. "You guys ok?"

"Hey, aren't we supposed to be asking you that?" said Rodney with forced jocularity, looking from Ronon to Teyla, and then Teyla to Ronon, dropping his smile instantly. "Though, obviously you are… ok… I mean… disregarding…" and he twirled his finger uselessly over Sheppard's bed.

"A hundred broken bones? Yeah, I'm fine, Rodney, thank you."

"We must admit that you look much improved since the last time we saw you," said Teyla politely, smoothing out her former expression. Difficult though to conceal her surprise at just how well the Colonel _did _look.

"Yeah. We thought you'd die," added Ronon so bluntly it'd earned him another black glare.

"Ok! What's everyone's problem?" asked Sheppard with a sigh that hurt his ribs.

Ronon knew he should hold back. This wasn't the time or the place. They hadn't come here to continue this argument. But, apart from all the bandages and stuff, Sheppard did look so much better, and he was never so soft that you had to treat him with kid gloves anyway. "She's not speaking to me because I said Shepto must have pushed you off that platform," he simmered.

"It was a ridiculous accusation! Shepto could never do such a thing!" flared up Teyla.

"And Sheppard could never just fall off a ledge!" retorted Ronon.

"People! People! Let's not do all this _again_!" complained Rodney. Colonel Carter came over to join them. A flicker of surprise gone in an instant. A nod towards Sheppard as Rodney spoke again.

"Was he pushed or did he fall? Come on, Sheppard. Put them out of their misery, please! You know Sam, we could have _all_ done it. Like in Murder on the Orient Express."

"I wouldn't have let anyone come close. We were on full alert. Sorry, Ronon. But I just… fell, though I'm pained, literally, to say it."

"You just… fell?" echoed Sam, not a little incredulously. She then, must have shared Ronon's view of events.

"There was no railing or anything. It could've happened to anyone," explained Sheppard, trying to sound casual.

"To anyone on… full alert?" inquired Sam with raised eyebrows and a hint of a tease and a smile.

"Yeah," said Sheppard, satisfied with his answer.

"Sounds clumsy to me," murmured Rodney.

"Yeah, and you would know," replied Sheppard a little aggressively. He was feeling oversensitive. This was like being under a microscope with the four of them staring at him. "Look. Ok. I confess. I was …" he hesitated, because he knew that this was going to sound stupid, "watching a butt…"

"A butt?" asked Rodney with wide eyes.

"A butterfly."

"A butterfly?!" The question was said with disbelief by everyone simultaneously. And now he was… _really _annoyed. With Teyla's high quirking eyebrow. With the expected smart ass remark from Rodney that he stopped dead with a scowl. And with Ronon. He could live with Ronon's smirk but he sure as Hell knew he _was_ gonna get back to Atlantis one day if only to give the guy latrine duty.

He lamely tried digging himself out of the hole he'd just dug for himself. "Yeah. A beau… an _unusual _butterfly. It just sort of… you know… flew by like butterflies do… it caught my eye… I lost balance… and the rest you know… There! Can I sleep now! Coz I'm tired." And he closed his eyes to full stop the conversation. But he knew they still stood there.

He spoke again, not opening his eyes, his voice sounding exhausted, "I fell, right?... You can let Shepto off the hook... I just fell... It was my own damn fault... And now… and now I'm here… like this…"

And the heart monitor was bleeping like mad again.

He hadn't meant to wallow in self-pity. It was just the way it had came out. Perhaps he was tired after all.

"John?" Teyla touched his hand, attempting an apology. But he set his face hard. Blanking her out. All of them. He could feel their sympathy. And that sort of hurt more than anything.

Dr. Keller came over hurriedly.

"You're not supposed to be upsetting him you know. I think, perhaps, you should leave."

And the loneliness hurt even more...

* * *

Sam returned to Dr. Keller.

"I can't believe this! After that last setback, I even had his file out for family contacts, ready to offer condolences, and now he's practically sitting up!"

"I know. This is why I warned you. It's crazy. But look at his scans…" And Sam studied the screen. "The area that haemorrhaged. No sign of swelling… I don't mean to be crude or anything, but, hell, I've only just sewn the guy up!" Keller flicked a button. "And here. Bone tissue. Right arm. And right leg. Ribs... All mending. And again no swelling. Any lacerations... Surgical cuts... Stitches now completely redundant. It's all been double-checked."

Sam was relieved naturally. For John's sake. And even her own. The thought of possibly recommending him for an honourable discharge, with his reputation, wouldn't exactly make her win the popularity stakes around Atlantis.

"And he's not aware yet?"

Keller shook her head.

"As far as he's concerned, he's on a one way ticket out of here."

"So any ideas on the cause? He couldn't have come into contact with some sort of healing device?" Sam was remembering her days back in SG1 and the Goa'uld technology she had had the good fortune to use.

"I don't see how or when… He was transferred virtually straight from the Jumper to theatre. And whatever has started this, the effect was not immediate, though it's accelerating at a rate of knots now. Also, I had three other patients at the time - why would Colonel Sheppard be singled out? "

"So you're looking at a return of the Iratus Virus? A reversion?" Obviously the scan would have ruled out a nannite infection.

Keller nodded gravely. "It's the first thing I'm looking into. But there's no other symptoms. I've just taken bloods. I'm also having the blood transfusions checked for contamination... But I can't see how it can have happened. He was given the all clear last time. Unless something triggered a return... He wasn't atacked…?"

Sam shook her head. "No. He says he simply fell." She felt it tactful not to mention butterflies.

"_Colonel Sheppard_ simply _fell_? I find that difficult to believe…"

"Me too."

"I've carried out brain scans looking for abnormalities. They've came up negative. A minor disturbance in brain waves could account for any imbalances… I don't know... But until I've completed bloodwork, I can't offer any concrete answers about anything."

"In the meantime, he has to be moved to a secure unit."

"You're calling in that protocol?" Keller sounded reluctant.

"I have to. And it'll have to cover anyone he's come into contact with."

"That's half my medical team, including me. Sheppard's team. Lorne's team-"

"Damn! They've just gone off world!"

"You're going to quarantine Atlantis because someone's getting _well_?"

"Ok…" Sam reconsidered, "just blood tests and regular reports to Infirmary. I'll get it seen to."

"And you still think we shouldn't tell him?" The decision Colonel Carter was laying out before her, of immediate sedation and seclusion was undermining patient and doctor trust, as far as Dr. Keller was concerned. "I'm not comfortable with this. It all feels kinda underhand." Though she was grateful that it wasn't her call.

"It was all decided after the last time." When Sheppard had been infected with the Iratus Bug virus and had transformed into an Iratus Bug mutant. No one should have to go through that kind of suffering... of witnessing their own decline into something subhuman. "It's in his own interests, as well as for every one else's safety. You said yourself that John has been singled out. I sincerely hope that nothing but good will come out of this, but until it does, we have to assume that he may have been compromised in some way."

* * *

Sheppard slept for what he thought was the remainder of the day. And when he came to, thoughts came flooding in. The thousand and one things when semi awake. Over and over in replay. Remembering mostly. Remembering the accident. Remembering the parts of him he couldn't move… wasn't going to move any time soon and the reason why he wasn't moving… though there was a weird sensation… that if it weren't for the casts, bandages and all the med. paraphernalia he _would_ be able to move… the effect of the drugs again… like the weird dreams… He supposed he should be grateful he was still alive... But... he was going to have to leave Atlantis…

And then thoughts that go off at a tangent… Who would get his job? Caldwell probably. Lorne perhaps. And Lorne would be glad to see the back of him… He remembered that Lorne had technically rescued him… That must have really wound the guy up. But still, he probably deserved some thanks. He guessed Lorne must have been left to finish the surveying missions on his own. Rodney was competent enough in the Jumpers and had brought Jumper One home eventually, but that asteroid field would test even Lorne on a good day. Despite his grievances, if it were Sheppard's call, Lorne would be the only pilot allowed out. But it wasn't… And never would be again… And now he realized he had been brooding…

Dr. Keller was at his bedside. Adjusting the IV once more.

"Hey, Doc. I really don't need the painkillers," he drawled sleepily through half open eyes. Which was true. Even the thumping head of earlier had quite cleared.

"You don't have to be a hero all the time," she said, but he didn't hear the end before he was asleep again.

The needle for another blood test woke him a second time.

"Hey, leave me some - I'm sure I need that stuff," he joked.

"I'm just checking for infections," she replied. Surely the Ancient scanner did that, he thought. He was a lot more alert. And noticed the return of the earlier evasiveness. He looked at her. A pretty and friendly face but she wasn't meeting his eye. He felt uneasy.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she replied, with a poor attempt at a reassuring smile. "Nothing for you to worry about. Been a little overworked lately…" He noted that all the other beds were empty. And she was fiddling with the IV again.

"I hope you're cutting that out." He was honestly starting to wonder if he'd ever broken any bones. The Infirmary hazed over and he felt the immediate compelling need to sleep again.

And then, realization sunk in.

And he struggled briefly…

_Damn… they're… sedating... me..._


	4. Chapter 4

_Thanks Reviewers! Methinks one of you has been sneaking a look at this chapter already! _

_And do you really need regular updates with Season 5 so close now?! Surely you're not going to be reading fan fic when the real thing gets here in 3D and glorious technicolor?!_

_Anyway, back to Chapter Four... You might need to concentrate here... things get a little bit technical... I blame the scientist ladies, Keller and Carter... it's nothing to do with me!... and don't you go thinking you've got all answers yet... you're not even halfway there..._

* * *

Chapter Four

Many confused and mixed up dreams later, and Sheppard came round momentarily.

Low voices. Indistinguishable words. A sensation of movement. The familiar vertical corridor lights of Atlantis a blur. A question started on his lips but became a part of the next dream.

He woke again.

Unable to focus on anything beyond the foot of the bed. An awareness though. That the room was much larger, possessing a much higher ceiling than the Infirmary.

A shot of alarm. He was now in the Isolation Room of Atlantis. And remembered they were sedating him. _What the hell was going on_?

He attempted to lift his head to see if he had company. Oddly, the movement was easy. The neck brace had been removed.

He fell back heavily onto his pillow. Fighting the oppressive need to sleep again. Effort. To drive away the cramming dreams. The will. To try and move the rest of his body. Just a little. To push back unconcsiousness. Just a little. And his theory... confirmed. All the casts and dressings were gone. _How long had he slept for heaven's sake?_

He was now determined. That he was just gonna get out of this bed no matter how tired he felt and demand some answers.

But his wrists jarred hard against the black Velcro straps that tied him to the bed rails. Exhausted, he collapsed onto the pillow again and was asleep in seconds.

* * *

"What? He gets better and you treat him like some kind of freak? Some kind of criminal?" It was Ronon who was most indignant.

"I'm sure that Colonel Carter had every one's best interests at heart. No-one was certain that the Iratus Retrovirus hadn't returned," said Teyla trying to placate her friend.

"Yeah, well, it hasn't. Why keep him locked up?" They had been summoned to the Observation Room overlooking the Isolation Ward for what was tantamount to a second debriefing of the short-lived mission to Little Alora. The whole team standing at the window, staring down to the room below, stunned by the news that Sheppard had been moved to this secure unit.

"We still can't rule out anything of that nature," explained Sam. "Not yet. Dr. Keller is still carrying out tests."

"You, uh, you sedated him?" asked Rodney. He was sure he was uncomfortable with what he was seeing too.

"So he doesn't know yet, what's going on?" scowled Ronon, gritting his teeth.

Sam shook her head, knowing the affirmation wouldn't go down too well.

Ronon leaned on the sill, locking his shoulders and pressing his forehead against the glass. A posture seething with anger. Disconcerting to all present. Who cast him sideways wary glances. His large size seemed to magnify the rage channeling through his body at the sight of his team leader, effectively bound and gagged.

"Weir wouldn't have done this," he said.

Sam stiffened. The tense atmosphere in the room deepened at his words. She was aware now of the worried looks coming _her_ way. She could cope with some resentment but Ronon's criticism was getting personal.

"It was either this or a holding cell," she maintained calmly. "And Elizabeth _would _have done this. Since Sheppard's last encounter with the Iratus Retrovirus, security protocols have been amended."

Sam took a deep breath. They'd been no easy way of breaking the news to these three but that part was over now and she needed to move on. "Dr. Keller and I called you here, to go over the mission to MT9 143. We believe it would be helpful if you can recall anything unusual, however trivial it might seem, that occurred on the planet, that could throw a light on this problem. Perhaps something that was omitted or overlooked in the mission reports?"

They'd all turned away from the window and all three looked at one another, cautiously. As much as they wished to co-operate, they all unanimously did not wish to say anything that might incriminate their Colonel in any way.

Carter sensed their reluctance. "It's merely an informal discussion. Bounce off some ideas."

"I already told you everything in my mission report, " said Ronon defensively. But he figured that the sooner they did this, the sooner Sheppard would be released. "Ok… when Sheppard touched the Obelisk thing, he said it buzzed his hand." It had been bothering Ronon, but it'd been something he couldn't explain, so why put it in the report? And he didn't think Sheppard had wanted to let on about it anyway.

"Buzzed?" asked an incredulous Rodney, "and what's that supposed to mean exactly?"

"Buzzed."

"And this is relevant because?..."

"I thought it was Sheppard who activated the de-cloaking of the Temple-"

"What?!" interrupted Rodney. "Well, if you're saying the Temple was de-cloaked simply by touching the Obelisk then, it could have been either one of us as we both possess the ATA gene. As far as operating Ancient technology is concerned there is no difference between the natural gene and the artificial one." He'd always experienced a degree of inferiority on that score and was often reiterating the fact. Dr. Keller smiled to herself.

"Did _you _actually touch the thing?" accused Ronon.

"I'm sure I must have done - when I was doing the video," Rodney insisted, pushing out his chin in a semi-defiant sort of way. Ronon pulled a face. He didn't believe the scientist.

"But you didn't experience a… buzzing sensation?" enquired Sam.

"No. No. I didn't. But…" faltered Rodney.

"Yes?"

"This… this buzz… oh, for crying out loud, can't somebody call it something different? ...this buzz, it might have nothing to do with de-cloaking-"

"But it might have been some sort of trigger for… for whatever has happened to Sheppard," finished Ronon, which had been his point all along.

"That's true," agreed Sam.

"And the other unusual occurrence?" asked Teyla of Ronon and Rodney. They both nodded confirming she could be their spokesperson. "Colonel Sheppard insisted there were two men down on the slope. None of us had seen them though we were at John's side in minutes and Ronon certainly had him in sight in seconds after the fall. At the time, we merely believed John's insistence to be some sort of delirium."

"He had, after all, been driving us all nuts saying that someone else was on the island when it was quite obvious to everyone else there wasn't," added Rodney.

"You do not think these two men could have been responsible for healing the Colonel?" asked Teyla. "Though if they were, would they have not made themselves known? And… I cannot see how they could have had the time," she further reflected.

"That's probably just it. They didn't. They were nowhere to be seen when we arrived. So they didn't do a full healing," suggested Ronon.

"Simply set things in motion," nodded Sam

"So then what happened? They got shy, and poof! Disappeared? Are we talking Fairy Godmothers here?" Rodney had somehow managed to find his old sarcastic self.

"And then there's the radio," said Ronon.

"Oh no! You're so _not_ going to bring that up again!" protested Rodney.

"The radio?" queried Sam. She didn't remember reading anything in connection with radios in the mission reports other than static interference.

"Our radios were not working-" begun Teyla.

"Static!" interrupted Rodney, folding his arms and rolling his eyes, making boredom.

"Our radios were not working," persisted Teyla, "for the whole duration we were on the island. We were trying to contact Major Lorne. Or Atlantis. Repeatedly, without success, to ask for assistance. Colonel Sheppard regained consciousness and suddenly we were able to speak with the Major. Colonel Sheppard loses consciousness and the radios are rendered useless again."

"Coincidence! Anomaly! This is the talk of the superstitious! And not at all scientific," scoffed Rodney.

"It was weird," said Ronon matter of factly. "And _you_ haven't been able to explain it."

"And no, I haven't. But this has nothing to do with Sheppard's miraculous recovery, has it now?" Sam was inclined to agree and was starting to feel she was needed as a diplomatic mediator. Perhaps it was time to bring the meeting to a close.

"We just thought it was worth pointing out. Can we go now?" demanded Ronon brusquely. He was beginning to feel he'd been in the same room far too long with Rodney. "And can Sheppard?" he asked, even more roughly.

"I think we can rule out the IRV now, but I do still have tests to complete. And I'm also in the process of examining files…" said Keller doubtfully.

"So you're still not going to release him?" Ronon looked from Sam to Keller and back to Sam. Saw their answer. Snorted angrily. And walked out.

"Ronon!" called Teyla. She glanced at the others, apologetic. "I must go after him. I am sorry… that he may have caused offence…" and she left also.

Rodney stood with his hands in his pockets looking ill at ease and awkward with the silence that followed. He then turned back to the window. Staring down unhappily at Sheppard's sleeping form in the room below.

"I can't keep the man sedated forever, you know." Perhaps Keller felt she was more on Ronon's side after all.

"I'm not happy to change anything until your tests are completed, hard as that might seem," explained Sam.

"Look, Sam…" began Rodney hesitantly, not looking away from the window. Straight talking wasn't his thing and he seldom did it. "Don't you think we should just be grateful that Sheppard's well again... And leave it at that... I mean... I doubt very much it was down to some sort of "magical" Obelisk, " and he turned to make a half effort at the inverted commas sign with his fingers, "or imaginary strangers... but... he's better now, just... leave him be, can't you?"

There was such an earnestness in his face, such a pleading in his voice, that nearly threw her resolve to be firm in this. But she was adamant.

"We have to be certain, Rodney. You're a scientist. You know that we have to be certain."

* * *

Dr. Keller took a seat in front of a monitor which she had paused when the others had arrived. Beside her was a further monitor with a video link to the room below. Another couple of hours and she'd have to sedate Sheppard again. She just wished the deception could be over.

She sighed and resumed her work at the console.

To discover why a patient has made such a rapid and complete recovery from a critical prognosis of thirty-six hours previously shouldn't really come into the category of a problem. She wished such miracles were everyday occurrences. She remembered the sickening feeling of déjà vu when Sheppard had been stretchered off the Jumper on to a waiting medical gurney. It seemed like Elizabeth all over again. She wished Elizabeth had had the same good fortune...

So here she was, looking for anything out of the ordinary in what must be one of her more unusual medical cases. That meant checking all known data bases. And that meant accessing Dr. Beckett's files. This wasn't the first time. And on each occasion, Dr. Keller experienced an odd mixture of admiration, humility - and hallowedness. The man had been a genius in the field of genetics. She could not possibly hope to come close to his level of expertise. To merely re-examine his work was equal to entering a church at night. Holy ground and irreverent to be there. For her, it was still haunted by his presence more than anywhere on Atlantis. His words were here. Part of the life achievement. And something of the soul…

As soon as Sheppard had shown signs of rapid healing and in view of Colonel Sheppard's earlier medical history, there were grave concerns the Iratus Retrovirus had somehow made a return into his system. Though except for the abnormal healing complete with a lack of scarring, there were no other symptoms. None of the blue-grey skin pigmentation. None of the feral characteristics. So not surprisingly the results were negative. Dr. Beckett had carried out extensive and exhaustive research on Wraith DNA in order to produce his Wraith retrovirus. So anything Wraith-related in Sheppard's blood could be readily identified or ruled out. Thankfully it was the latter. For the time being at least.

She frowned. There was something that had come up in the conversation with Sheppard's team.

The ATA gene.

Keller had already been midway through scanning Dr. Beckett's files on that subject. She had read through his work on the natural ATA gene without it throwing any light on Sheppard's current situation. Dr. Beckett had carried out his research using his own blood samples as he was also a natural carrier. His inoculation programme for the artificial gene had come from these samples. McKay had been the first human it was successfully tried on. Only forty-eight per cent of all inoculations were effective. And the assumption was that all ATA genes were identical, both natural and artificial. Which had been Rodney's claim earlier. It was felt that there little need to investigate natural carriers further. Beckett had more pressing research to do. To develop the Wraith retrovirus.

Another computer screen beeped nearby indicating a running programme had completed yet another DNA analysis of Colonel Sheppard's blood. This time, not for the IBR, but for a comparison of Colonel Sheppard's present DNA with that of three years ago. It was merely a routine procedure she had been carrying out. She slid her chair over and checked the monitor.

There was no perfect match.

If anyone else had been in the room with her at that precise moment they probably would have asked if she were ok. She had been looking for 'something unusual' but Dr. Keller felt stunned nonetheless. She just hadn't been expecting this.

She spent another furious half-hour, verifying the data and collating more information, thankful that Beckett and McKay had augmented this particular Ancient database for easy retrieval. Finally, the work completed, she took a deep breath and tapped her earpiece.

"Colonel Carter? Dr. Keller here. Can you return to the Observation Room? I think you might want to see this."

* * *

"The ATA gene, isolated by Dr. Beckett, was a previously non-coded gene."

Dr. Keller was explaining the data to Sam, who was now beside her at the Console. "These non-coded sequences outnumber coded ones by ten to one and their function is still largely unaccounted for. Neighbouring genes on either side are also of the non-coded variety, the four proteins making up these genes being in random order and differing in numbers, and widely varying from person to person. See," and Dr. Keller pointed at the monitor, "this is Colonel Sheppard's DNA, taken from blood samples at the start of the expedition three years ago. There is the ATA gene and on either side, the random sequence of coding as we'd expect. Now compare that with the present day." The screen flicked to show a different diagram of two double helix DNA strands, along with a load of charts and graphs. "One side has changed so there are now two identical sequences of eight proteins, mirroring one another."

"And you think this new gene is responsible for the abnormal healing process? He healed himself?"

Keller nodded.

"Yes. I believe it is safe to assume that. As nothing else has changed except these two factors. We still shouldn't jump to conclusions but it'd be one heck of a coincidence if there was no connection... How this is possible, I can't understand. The IR Virus attacked genes in the same manner as a serious illness might, causing the mutation. The self healing, as you know, coming as a result of the now-known Wraith element in the virus. This bears no resemblance to that."

"So, rather than a cause for the healing, we're looking at a cause for the gene transformation and _that _still could have been triggered by the Obelisk, or initiated by the two strangers."

"Like I said, we mustn't jump to conclusions… Look, there's something else." Dr. Keller could not quite conceal the tremor of excitement in her voice. After all, she had made what was tantamount to the discovery of a new gene. She tapped further buttons on the keyboard and another DNA helix was displayed.

"I've been able to isolate and identify this pattern of eight proteins." They were highlighted in green. "Occurring at regular intervals a further six times, making eight in total. Two of these are actually present in the DNA of three years ago. I've checked through the files of other natural ATA gene holders. This sequence of eight proteins is unique to the Colonel." She paused. "Now we've established a link with these new genes and the ATA gene, I think it is possible that we may have stumbled across the reason why John alone is so adept at using Ancient technology. I believe this gene had always... sort of boosted his ATA gene. Everyone had assumed he is just… that good and the cause has never been investigated. The additional new genes are perhaps boosting the ATA gene further to activate the self healing... I dunno."

A sudden idea occurred to Sam. "The connection with the ATA gene… the self-healing... Call it intuition. Pull up any data of Ancient DNA on file." Dr. Keller frowned. She knew that like all information on the Ancients, their knowledge was often incomplete. She tapped yet more buttons on her keyboard, shaking her head as data scrolled up on screen.

"Some personnel files containing some medical records but they are very fragmentary. The consoles they were stored in were in rooms once flooded. Rodney was able to salvage some data… there… that's all we have. We rely mainly on Dr. Beckett's work on the ATA gene. He began his research using the Ancient's own database showing how they adapted their technology to be recognised by this specific gene. However, it largely concentrates specifically on the ATA gene only. There was no reason for him to look beyond that. However, some periphery work was derived from postmortem and forensic investigations on the Lady in the Ice at the Antarctica Station."

Sam Carter nodded. She remembered that time well enough.

"There." Another sketch appeared on screen showing yet another diagrammatic double helix, with the ATA gene marked in red. And DNA data belonging to Ayiana.

"My God!" exclaimed Keller suddenly. "There! And there! Do you see it?"

Sam nodded.

Dr. Keller used the left-hand key to highlight two twin eight protein genes on either side of the red area. "And can I find the other six? Yes, there they are." The pointer flicked across the screen marking six more areas in green.

"They're identical to Sheppard's!" said an amazed Sam.

"Well, he's mutated alright. Not into an Iratus Bug. But... into something of an Ancient, " murmured Keller. And the two women stared at one another, shocked at the discovery.

* * *

Sheppard opened his eyes again. And wondered why he'd bothered.

He was still in the Isolation Room. He made to struggle with the wrist straps again. Surprised for a moment that they were gone. Luxuriating in the sensation of freedom, however small, he stretched his arms out and put his hands beneath his head. Only to become entangled with wires attached to sensors at his temples. He pulled them free, frustrated. A machine to his left gave a warning beep. He ignored it and once again put his hands under his head.

_I could try escaping,_ he thought. And that was quite a idea. How could you _escape_ from Atlantis?

He then noticed the marine guarding the door. A guard on the _inside_? They clearly hadn't been taking any chances. The soldier stood to a smart attention. "Sir!" The formality seemed incongruous here. Or anywhere. Who'd been drilling these guys lately? He remembered Lorne. And wished he hadn't...

Sheppard sat up. He noted that his guard was carrying a stunner. Well, _that_ was a relief.

"I don't suppose you know what's going on?"

"No, Sir!" came the brisk reply.

"I suppose _someone _will come and explain soon?" Sheppard asked loudly of the thin air, knowing that either the video was on or someone would be watching from the window above.

Then impatient, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. An ominous click from the marine's gun warned him to go no further.

"Hey, I thought you were on my side!"

He had a fuzzy headache and would dearly have loved to go for a jog to clear his head. He rubbed his broken arm. Correction. What _should_ have been his broken arm. He frowned as he continued to massage the stiffness that still remained. He pulled up his sleeve of his scrubs. No scarring. This was weird.

"They must have thought I'd mutate into an Iratus Bug thing again. I didn't, did I?"

"Wouldn't know, Sir!" The marine was starting to get on his nerves. But he was the only person he had to talk to.

"And what's your name, soldier?"

"Parker, Sir!"

"Look, Parker, I know I haven't been your Commanding Officer for-'' he stopped, realizing he had no idea of the passage of time since his fall.

"Two days, Sir!"

"Two days?" Was that all? It had only taken two days to mend…

"Yes, sir!"

"-For two days. But there no need for all this… stay easy… that's how I like things done… easy…"

"Yes, sir!"

"And… quieter." Before the marine could reply again, the door activated and Sam entered. Sheppard gave her the best traitor look he could muster. And she did _her_ best to ignore it. Carter nodded to Parker, dismissing him and closed the door behind him.

"How are you feeling?" Perhaps a little too breezily she realized.

Sheppard persisted with the hostility.

"Not too well actually."

"Really?" Sam was fooled and even felt concerned.

"No. I'm pretty pissed off. Why am I here? And a guard?"

"It's not as bad as it looks. Ronon was keeping an eye on things earlier but even he has to sleep."

"When do _I_ get to leave?" asked Sheppard.

"You have to understand our concerns - you were healing so fast -"

"You thought the Iratus Retrovirus was working again." He looked at his hands, turned them over and held them up. "Well, it's not. See. So what have you figured out? I take it you have been trying to figure something out whilst keeping me out cold?" He couldn't help the continued sarcasm. He knew Sam personally didn't deserve this. But he was angry that they'd been so covert. And _he_ hadn't deserved that either.

Sam glanced up at the window. She'd only been given five minutes to explain.

"Ok, John. Brief and frank. Not 'good news, bad news'. Just mind blowing. Your genetic coding has dramatically altered. We discovered that, besides the ATA gene, you share common genes with known Ancient ones. We hadn't realised until now that there _was_ a specific Ancient DNA fingerprint. But apparently there is and you have it. You always have done, but to a lesser degree. And the process appears to be ongoing. In the last hour alone, Dr. Keller has been able to isolate yet more genes. By this time tomorrow, you could well be as much Ancient as human. We believe the mutation was probably triggered by something or someone on MT9 143. We also believe the mutation has engendered you with the ability to self-heal." This was quite a torrent of information. And she paused to allow her disclosure sink in.

To say he was stunned was an understatement. He was still sitting on the edge of the bed and studied the floor hard. He chewed at his lip. This had thrown him. He didn't quite know how to react. And that was unnerving. He _always_ knew exactly how to react. He wondered if he should try pinching his arm to see if he were having one of those weird dreams. But this had to be better than turning into a monster... hadn't it? Or being crippled...

"Well… that's interesting. Not the sort of news a guy gets everyday, is it? This-'' he coughed, "doesn't mean I'm going to ascend or anything, does it?" He was remembering the time Rodney developed 'powers' when caught in the Ascension device.

"No, I think not. We _were_ doing ECG tests," Sam glanced down at the redundant trailing sensor wires lying limply on the bed, "but they show no significant heightened brain activity… not even… when you were angry," she added, smiling slightly. "It is possible that sometime in the future you could ascend at a faster rate than us... mere mortals… if you were to put you're mind to it-"

"That ain't gonna happen." Sheppard was defiant on that subject. His views on Ascension were pretty much fixed. There was too much to do in this life, without devoting it solely to achieve another level of existence.

Sam shrugged. "It's your prerogative. You'll know when the time is right for you, if you chose to do so. I imagine that if you're not actively preparing for it, then it cannot be achieved anyway. Saying that, we've always assumed that humans had no powers except prior to Ascension, so it'd unique to develop something like self healing without Ascension. An Ancient, however... well, self-healing went with the job, so to speak... We haven't as yet determined which camp you fall in, Ancient, or human, with a non-human ability."

She paused and then added, "it's not so long ago, however, you were willing to try out that Ancient device of Rodney's that left him with superhuman powers, despite the risk of Ascension." Though not in command of Atlantis at that time, she'd always kept an interest in any new discoveries coming from the city.

It was Sheppard's turn to shrug. "Older and wiser. One individual isn't going to have much effect on all the stuff this place throws up." Sam wasn't so sure. In all her years on the SG Programme, there were many incidences when someone with exceptional gifts could have gotten them out of some very tight corners. They were silent.

"So… what happens now?" asked Sheppard eventually.

"We don't know. This is obviously new ground. We don't know how far this will go. It might only be temporary. There may be a reversal. We… need to do some tests… Though science doesn't always have the answers…"

"You've said that before…" he trailed off, frowning. Sam again briefly looked up at the window. She returned her attention to Sheppard but he'd already seen her concern.

"Who's up there?" An instinct told him he had every right to be suspicious.

"A team from SGC. Sent by the IOA. Come to carry out testing. We have to humour them. I can't get rid of them. It was difficult enough to persuade them to give me a moment to have a word first. It was my intention to keep any testing in house. I'm as cross about this as you are." Sheppard had tightened his lips and didn't look at all pleased. Sam couldn't be more apologetic. And it was true. She did feel angered. There seemed little point in giving her absolute authority in running Atlantis with one hand and then taking it away again in what seemed moments later with the other. She knew she was new to the job but a little more trust wouldn't have gone amiss.

And then she was unhappy for a second reason. This was too close a situation to the time she'd spent with Orlin on Earth. The Ascended who followed her back there, who'd only just managed to escape goodness knows what at the hands of another investigative team.

"So news of this has got around already. I'm the last to know?"

"No. Few people do. Though I've had to put round the word that you weren't as severely injured as we'd first thought. For your sake, I'm trying to keep this as quiet as possible. But Rodney happened to mention the altered gene while dealing in another unrelated matter."

"He owes me big time."

The door buzzer sounded and Sam stepped back to activate the controls, allowing in three men and a lady in white coats. Two were pushing trolleys laden with various sized silver cases, parking them on either side of Sheppard's bed. These they proceeded to open, revealing all manner of electronic gizmos which Rodney would have been ecstatic about.

Before Sheppard could object, one of the men took hold of his legs, placing them firmly on the bed and pushed him backwards into his pillows. A second immediately commenced attaching more than a dozen sensor pads and wires to different parts of his body.

"Hey! That's personal!" Sheppard protested, as another section of his scrubs was lifted and invaded.

The lady re-applied the ECG wire, making tut-tutting noises as she did so.

"There is no need for you to stay, Colonel Carter," said the third of the men, with bright and eager enthusiasm. He was apparently in charge, and opened a small container holding what seemed to be surgical tools. Sheppard wondered for an odd moment if they intended dissecting him... He threw Sam a doleful look from the centre of his spider's web of wires.

"No. I'll stay." If only for moral support. Though this had all the appearances of getting out of hand. But she knew she could still play her trump card, if that were the case.

"That's up to you. But this may take a week."

"A week!" said Sam. Sheppard pulled a face little short of despondency.

"Right," said the man,rubbing his hands together with tremendous relish and seating himself at the table before a monitor. "Let's get started, shall we? A few control exercises in order to test and calibrate the equipment. We'll get on to the more serious stuff later." He pressed a few buttons and looked up to resume.

"Do I have to do this?" Sheppard appealed to Sam. "I'm not some kinda lab. rat, you know."

"It'll be ok," she replied, with a 'go on' matronly look.

"We'll start with some IQ tests," and Sheppard was handed a data pad. "If you would like to answer questions 20-25 inclusive. I'm starting the clock-_now_!" The man smiled up at Carter with sickening condescension. "We won't begin with the easy ones," he explained. There was a brief pause while Sheppard dutifully completed the task and half-threw the data pad back.

"Less than two minutes! That's truly... amazing," said the tech.

"I should like to point out," interposed Sam, "that Colonel Sheppard has always possessed a high IQ." Sheppard nodded in agreement and actually managed a smile. A conceited one.

"As an air force pilot," continued Sam, "it's an essential prerequisite. You should already know that. Of all your proposed tests, this is the only one with a base line-" the man held up a hand to stop her. He could probably sense criticism coming his way.

"Like I said, these are merely quick preliminary tests to get the ball rolling. Right. Can you tell me what I'm thinking?" And he pulled what he thought was a bland expression.

"I'm not sure I _want_ to know what you're thinking," replied Sheppard with a look of disgust.

"No. Just answer the question."

"No."

"No, you're not going to answer the question?"

"No. I can't read your mind. I'm not telepathic!"

"Are you being entirely truthful?"

"You've got no way of knowing, have you? Because you're not damned telepathic either!" retorted Sheppard with gritted teeth. This was really starting to annoy him. The man stared at him, uncertainly.

"There was no increased brain activity," interjected the lady from her monitor, being carefully diplomatic.

The tech. sighed and continued, now holding up a small metallic canister.

"I have something inside this, can you tell me what it is?" He asked in a school teacher sort of way.

Sheppard shrugged. "Your lunch?"

The tech. glanced at him, not at all pleased with the response. The female assistant looked up from the other monitor. "No anomaly there, sir."

"Well, there wouldn't be, would there." He snapped back at her. He turned to Sheppard. "You do have to try, you know."

"Try what? I haven't got X-ray vision if that what you think." The tech. sighed and placed the container on the table beside him and without looking, threw Sheppard another question.

"Can you move that please?" Sheppard shook his head. The tech. looked up again.

"No?"

"No!" Sheppard's temper worsening with every passing second.

"No reading again," said the lady. The tech. scowled at her. Then sighed again.

"You're not being very co-operative, are you? In fact, obstructionist would be the correct word!"

"You don't get it," and Sheppard was tearing a wire free and flinging it to one side, "do you?" another wire followed, "I can't do those things," and another, which hurt when he pulled, so he winced, "because…" and he was free of another, "I just plain can't!" And he ripped off another.

"You really mustn't do that, sir. You'll lose all the data," remonstrated the lady, vainly attempting to re-connect the wires again. Sam was half-heartedly trying to help.

The tech. whose blood pressure must have now been 180 over 100 judging from the apoplectic redness of his face, was practically screaming at him.

"You must remain here! I will remind you Colonel Sheppard that I have the full mandate of SGC-" but he was talked over by a much louder Sheppard.

"There aren't any superpowers to discover because I haven't any superpowers!" each syllable was punctuated by another tossed wire, till Sheppard was free and launched himself off the bed. He pushed past Sam, headed for his exit, activated the controls and was soon gone into the corridor beyond. Leaving everyone staring at the open door.

* * *

He wouldn't let her in. Dammit. Sam had hoped she wouldn't have to call security. She'd already had him tracked down to this area of the City and felt that should be enough.

She tapped her earpiece.

"Control Room. Could someone override the locking device to Colonel Sheppard's quarters?"

"McKay here," came the reply, "I'm in the middle of something-"

"-I don't mind who does it, just get it done please." She found it difficult not to sound too impatient.

"It's ok, Colonel Carter. He's in here." Sam turned around to find Teyla standing at the door of her own quarters, indicating that Sam could enter. Surprised, Sam hesitated. Yes, she supposed he would run to a friend. Teyla followed her in. Sheppard was sitting on the side of Teyla's bed, still in scrubs, finishing off a drink and handed Teyla the empty glass.

"Thanks. And you're sure you haven't anything stronger? A beer?"

Teyla shook her head. "You should not be drinking such things. It is not long since you were on medication."

He pulled a face. "Hey! I can do anything now! I'm an Ancient!" he said sarcastically.

Sam was getting the distinct impression he was ignoring her. He was certainly sulking and she told him so.

"First I'm skulking. Now I'm sulking. Anyway how did you sort it with those folks back there."

At least, he appreciated that he'd left her to face the music. She sat down on one of Teyla's low chairs.

"I will leave you two alone?" suggested Teyla.

"No. You stay. Colonel Carter isn't going to be long," said Sheppard rather too aggressively for Teyla's liking. She remained standing, uncomfortable with the ill-feeling in the room. All of it one directional. John to Sam. Teyla's quarters were her sanctuary. Her place of peace and tranquility. Her place to meditate. As much as she was glad to come to her friend's aid, this atmosphere of animosity he was generating greatly disturbed the calm of those surroundings.

Sam was explaining the situation back in the Isolation Room. Her face was earnest. It was apparent to Teyla, that she too desired to help and Teyla admired the strength of Sam's persistence in the face of John's animosity. And judging by John's expression now, he must have sensed that desire also.

"…I told them this was too soon. You've barely had the chance to come to terms with this yourself. And that comes close on the heels of believing your military career was over. You probably might even think it still is." She omitted the fact that when ordered to fetch Sheppard back, she turned on the imbeciles and let them have it both barrels. She had told them that their psychology was completely wrong and they weren't going to accomplish anything the way that they were proceeding. And she made her doubts quite clear - that what they were doing was in no way scientific.

"I also suggested that perhaps if they were getting negative results and that you remain adamant you haven't any of the new enhanced abilities that they were obviously rooting for, then we should be asking Dr. Keller to re-examine her findings. Perhaps she has made a mistake."

"But you know that is not true?" asked Teyla, who'd been told everything by Sheppard.

"No. No, it isn't true," Sam wasn't proud of lying. She continued. "I also told them that if they did not pack up their kit forthwith then I'd get someone from General O Neill's office to do it for them."

"It must be nice to still have that sort of clout." Sheppard was being won over.

"Yes. Yes, it is," replied Sam, genuinely pleased. "Now I've got them off your back, what are you going to do for me?" Sheppard raised a questioning eyebrow. "You must realize," she continued, "I have a duty to keep a tight rein on you. For the time being, you must still consider yourself as being under medical observation."

"You mean you're still going to do tests yourself? I thought we already decided there was little point!" He stood up. She was going to lose him again.

"In no circumstances, can I return you to regular duty until this has been looked into further. Surely you can see that? You could still be compromised in some way." Sheppard began pacing the room. "We said before we don't know how far this might go. You claim you have no extra powers. And yeah, it was kinda of illogical that those... goons were expecting them. But, isn't it possible that the effect might not be as radical as Rodney's? His were artificially induced. Perhaps with you it is more of a gradual natural process. Though I'm guessing that if something does happen, you're going to deny it."

"Nothing is going to happen! Why can't I get people to see that? The healing thing… was a fluke." He was grasping at straws.

"Is it possible then that it was done by the two men that you saw?" suggested Teyla.

"Yes! It was them!" And Sheppard triumphantly clicked his fingers at the solution Teyla offered. He had actually forgotten them.

"I'm willing to concede that point. But... what about the door?" asked Sam.

"The door?"

"Yes. The door to the Isolation Room. The door that you opened. It should have been physically impossible. It was security coded. With _my_ genetic fingerprint."


	5. Chapter 5

_Again, many thanks to reviewers! And keep the reviews coming! And more if you like! (Yeah, I'm kinda greedy that way!) I need the encouragement! It's bad enough going up against some very good writers here at the moment, but to continue updating and going head to head against the _actual show_...?? It's my own fault-I should have planned things better...though I could always take a_ long _break..._

_I think I might not update until Sunday though, to give you all a chance to get over S&R..._

_For now, bits and pieces..._

* * *

Chapter Five

Sheppard sat down on the bed, stunned.

"How did you explain that away?" he asked hoarsely.

"I said I'd overlooked having the code installed."

"You lied again?"

"Yeah. I don't why I should be so crazy, do you?" Sheppard made no reply. "What I'm asking in return isn't difficult. Merely to open up to the possibilities. We touched upon this earlier. I do not entirely agree with you that one individual with enhanced powers can be of little use. Certainly if we investigate this further, we may be able to utilize these new genes that you have, in the same manner of the ATA gene and begin a programme of inoculation. If only for self-healing." Still Sheppard remained silent. He was prepared to listen then. And at least, she wasn't on the receiving end of another temper tantrum. "I realise you may have some fears and reservations. I wasn't kidding when I said there's a lot to come to terms with here." At the risk of sounding trite, she added, "You have to treat this as a voyage of discovery, as much as getting into the Jumper..."

Teyla, who knew her friend, spoke up. "John would be concerned about Ascension."

"Concerned. Now that's an understatement," he said grimly.

"They say you can return in human form?" asked Teyla.

"Yes. But it's that bit before that…" he shook his head and winced.

"Look, John, I'm going to suggest a second visit to Little Alora. See if we can throw some light on this. I'm fairly convinced your… condition and Alora are connected somehow. You've no objections to that?"

He made no response but sat gazing at the floor unhappily.

"The alternative is a trip back to the Isolation Room…" Sam said more firmly. If it came to that, would she even have to put him in the brig? Would even the brig hold him? She sincerely hoped she wouldn't have to find out.

"Since you put it that way… then I have no choice," he said gloomily.

"I thought you considered it inadvisable to activate the 'gate any more than is necessary?" reminded Teyla.

"I think that plan has totally gone out the window, what with a med. evacuation and now Lorne's early return with navigational problems. The high EM emissions in the area are interfering with equipment to such a degree, I doubt if we're ever going to make any progress there. Anyway," she stood to leave, "you, Colonel have a lot to think about and I need you mission ready tomorrow - and out of scrubs." Sam broke into a smile.

Sheppard had forgotten his clothing and gathered the loose neck of the top tight. A faint redness of a blush evident. He remembered storming out of the Isolation Room and suddenly being confronted with the long walk of five corridors and one transporter ride. And did _every_ _female_ member of the two hundred strong Atlantis expedition _have_ to be present. Escape _had_ seemed like a good idea at the time. He'd tried bluffing it out. Hey, it was normal to walk about in scrubs, wasn't it? Especially if you're the Military Commander. Judging from the stares, probably not.

"Crap." He was never going to live this down.

* * *

Even with the blinds drawn, he could tell it was morning. A lined hint of pale yellow light. He squinted at his watch. Too early yet to climb out bed. He turned over, lazily enjoying the moments of half awake, half asleep. When the brain fills with trivia... Those watches were pretty damn good, he thought... Did everything they said on the label... Huh, and more... Yeah, like survive a two hundred metre tumble down a rocky hillside...

There was the breeze again.

Which was weird.

The windows were shut.

And the sound of a soft rolling surf. Unlike the sound of the sea pounding the piers of Atlantis.

Alert now. He couldn't possibly be dreaming.

A tingling spine sense that someone else was in the room.

And right behind him.

This was stupid. No one could possibly be there… His firearm... in its holster... draped over the back of the chair at his desk... too far away... This was stupid. No one could possibly be there... He drew a deep breath. Ready... and rapidly rolled over to sit on the edge of the bed - ready-

Then sat back. Sat frozen. Eyes wide. Still holding that breath.

There she stood. The lady in his dream. Shimmering like one of those Ancient holograms. A simple blue dress. Cut low. To reveal bronze skin. An embroidered girdle across slim hips. A long plaid of thick brown hair. But sad brown eyes. And she danced slowly. Quietly singing to herself.

'_It is a song of hope and death.'_

He breathed out. Ok. So now he was hallucinating.

And then she stopped and turned to him.

"Eliosus? Eliosus?" But she was calling someone who was distant and far away.

And then the room seemed to dissolve around them. Replaced by stone walls and tapestry drapes. And that was kinda weird too.

'_I didn't expect you back so soon.' And she flung her arms around him._

'_Miss me, Ha'ashme?' Taking her around the waist._

'_The boys are at archery. Passandra has gone with the servants to market.'_

'_Miss me that much, huh?'__ And he held her tighter and kissed her and fondled her neck with his lips._

Wow... that was... he looked down at his hands... in disbelief... his breathing deep and rapid... his heart pounding... that was... was that him?... did he just do that?...

And then she was calling again. Back in Sheppard's room. And she was pretty upset from the sounds of things.

"Eliosus… Eliosus… Come back… Please come back…"

Not dreaming. He was wide awake. A waking dream? A vision? No. Definitely hallucinating. What sort of enhanced power was that? He hated it though when things messed with your mind. They were always kind of creepy at the time. They'd had so much of that happening on Atlantis. There were always rational explanations. A machine. A virus. This lady… ok, she was nice… ok, she was hot… her presence could be explained like that. Rationally. Hell, he was a pilot. Controls were his thing. Control was his thing.

Sheppard continued to watch the lady, mesmerized, holding his breath again. It was like the bird on the veranda from when he was a kid. He knew if it breathed it would take flight. It'd come so close he could almost touch it. Until hit by a well-aimed stone from his brother's catapult.

He didn't need a stone now to destroy the moment. His own thoughts did that well enough. He had control... He had control... He forced her out. He forced out her sadness. And she was gone.

Of course, he has just done the complete opposite of what Sam had asked. Let it happen. Keep an open mind.

He shrugged, and decided it was time to try out that new uniform.

And when he was showered and dressed and buttoning up his jacket, she touched his sleeve.

He jerked with surprise. She hadn't gone then. He must have been thinking... And she was co close again... Her eyes full of the same desperate appeal of his dream in the Infirmary.

"Eliosus?"

He was talking to a dream.

"No. No. You have the wrong guy."

Normal. Normal would be good.

Making his way along the Atlantis corridors to the Mission Prep. Room helped to a degree. Familiarity. A routine. Surely no mournful maidens looking for long lost lovers could ambush him here.

He headed towards the transporter from one direction. At the same time as Major Lorne walked from the other.

His day was getting worse. Little by little.

Lorne would naturally be taking a further recon. assignment out that morning, crossing off another planet on the naquadah list. The Major would probably be well aware that Sheppard was on a babysitter mission. And just who the baby was. And that was galling.

The Major had spotted him and his expression certainly wasn't of the friendly kind. There was no way to avoid the fact that they would have to share the transporter.

Lorne slapped the door button with little grace. The two men entered and simultaneously reached for the panel to select the Prep. Room. Sheppard made an 'after you' gesture. But it cut little ice.

Lorne kept his hand still before activating the transport. Long enough to say his piece.

"That talk the other day. It made no difference, you know."

"I thought not," said Sheppard softly, pulling a face and studying his boots.

"I'm out to finish you."

Sheppard looked up sharply. "Is that a threat?"

Lorne activated the transporter.

"I don't know what else you'd call it," threw back Lorne as the transporter doors opened a second later to let him out.

* * *

"This is a waste of time," Rodney complained.

"You're not coming?" asked Sam, taking the co-pilot seat.

Sheppard, already seated in the pilot's seat, was undertaking pre-mission checks on the Jumper

"If you're not coming, then I'll bring Radek," decided Sam.

"I didn't say I wasn't coming."

Sam smirked sidelong at Sheppard, knowing she'd forced a quick change of mind in the scientist.

"Good. I'm bringing Radek anyway. He's stressing out in Lorne's team." Her glance at Sheppard was more serious this time, but her military commander remained inscrutable.

Radek came running through the hatch.

"Sorry, I'm late," he apologised breathlessly, making to take the seat behind Sheppard. Rodney, however, still standing at the bulkhead snapped his fingers at the seat behind Sam. Radek dutifully sat in the appointed place, too agitated apparently to protest. Sheppard tapped the control to close the hatch.

"At least, you can run," groused Rodney, limping to, and falling into his preferred position, wincing as he did so.

"You were cleared by Dr.Keller?" asked Radek with more sympathy than Rodney probably deserved.

Of course, everyone knew she had. Sheppard manoeuvred the Jumper out of the Bay into the Gateroom, and Sam dialled the 'gate.

"Sheppard? You have healing powers now. You couldn't…?" he twirled a finger round pointing at his injured foot.

"You'll get over it," said Sheppard bluntly. The gate kawhooshed and in seconds they passed through the wormhole and shot out through the dialled gate into space. Little Alora, once again appearing as a blue arc horizon in front of them, a short time after.

"No asteroids or anything?" asked Sam, peering upwards through the windscreen.

Rodney was pre-occupied with a data pad. He had the air of one who believes this was too boring for words. For Sam, she had to confess, this had the excitement of a school outing, seldom did she manage to get offworld these days. Administrative duties and Atlantis responsibilities always got in the way somehow. Perhaps at her age, she _should_ take more of a back seat on things. But if that were true, why not just settle down and get married?

It was Radek who replied, eager that someone was interested.

"No. Missions with Major Lorne have demonstrated a depleted asteroid field in this area now. We believe there is a higher density in _these_ co-ordinates, however." He learnt forward and brought up the information on the HUD.

"Which is going to make the next few missions rather hairy," observed Sam.

Radek nodded, concerned.

Sheppard kept the HUD switched on to locate the site of the Temple.

"You're quiet?" Sam meant Rodney though it could just as easily apply to Sheppard.

"Yeah, well, it was _me_ they woke up at four-thirty when an incoming wormhole activated."

"It's the first I heard? Why wasn't I told?" inquired Sam.

"I dunno. I guess they thought you needed your beauty sleep." She didn't think Rodney meant that as a compliment, particularly with that edge to his voice.

"So who dialled it?"

"Apparently no-one. No-one came through. It was the Aloran Gate. Deep space sensors indicated there were no craft in the area. It was nothing. A glitch of some sort. Annoying only to me," he added with a slight sniff. It'd been in his hurry to get there, that he'd twisted his ankle.

Sam was wide-eyed. Rodney was being rather too dismissive for her liking. Did Stargates really just dial themselves up for no especial reason?

"Well, next time, I'd like to be notified." And she let it go at that. Was he truly sulking because she had brought Radek along? She meant it when she'd said Radek was stressed out. Normally Radek got along fine with Major Lorne. But Lorne's vendetta apparently hadn't come to the conclusion she had hoped and he was treating all Sheppard's friends with much the same antipathy as Sheppard himself. And Radek was finding it difficult to cope with being on the receiving end of _that_.

Rodney leant forward, and hooked the data pad he was working on to the HUD.

"Sam wants to pick up sight of the Obelisk first," he explained to Sheppard. "She believes there may be others surrounding the Temple. Then we'll try landing near the Temple itself, if you don't mind. My foot, you know… those are your co-ordinates."

Sheppard merely nodded.

This is some fun trip, thought Sam. Rodney in a strop. Sheppard unusually subdued and acquiescent, though he had his reasons. She turned round to check on Radek. Judging from his expression he was obviously wishing he'd now gone with Lorne.

Once the outline of the three islands on the planet's surface came into view, Sheppard took the Jumper down in a low swoop to approach over sea. They cleared the beach of the larger island and soon spotted their earlier path that led straight to the Obelisk. Sheppard held the craft in a hover so Sam and Radek could get a closer look through the tree canopy.

"There are other paths leading away," observed Radek.

"Ok. So we didn't notice them!" said a tetchy Rodney.

Sam paid little attention to him. "Pathways on an uninhabited island?" she queried, almost to herself.

Without being asked, Sheppard thought to take them up higher to afford a better view. Thick jungly trees covered the whole island, but dark shadows in the foliage definitely indicated a series of connecting paths radiating out from the Temple site. The scree slope and the stream were readily identified but the Temple, itself, was lost from view again.

"The Temple's cloaked! We left it de-cloaked!" realised Rodney.

"Perhaps it's on some sort of regulating device," suggested Radek.

"There's someone here, there just has to be," murmured Sheppard.

"We'll do the path circle and then see if we can land," said Sam.

"Like _where_?" demanded Rodney, thinking that a hike from the beach again wasn't going to do his ankle any favours.

"The trees around the Temple are camouflage holograms, right?" said Sam.

"We just land right on top, then," agreed Sheppard.

They picked up the circular path and as Sam had suggested, they discovered a succession of seven further Obelisks on its route. Sam felt there was a significance in the fact there were eight in number and would have ideally liked a closer examination of all of them. Today, however, there really wasn't the time. For her, it was supposed to be a quick in and out mission.

Sheppard then angled the Jumper into the centre to commence landing. It was an act of faith to take them directly down onto the treetops and he found himself holding his breathe waiting for the scraping sound of thick branches on the Jumper's hull, or a sudden lurch if the Jumper should meet resistance. There was no problem. Upon their approach, the trees seemed to dissolve into a misty glassiness, and the Temple appeared, de-cloaked, out of haze immediately in front of them. They landed and Sheppard switched off the engines.

Silence in the cabin.

"Well... I think we can safely assume, Sheppard, that you did that," pointed out Rodney, eventually, referring to the de-cloaking.

"Why?" retorted Sheppard, "I'm telling you there's someone here. I thought we agreed the paths proved that. _And _I heard them… before." He felt uncomfortable remembering that.

"You _heard_ them? We all thought you _saw_ them?" questioned Rodney.

"It makes no difference."

"Oh, and I think it does if you've just had a bang on the head!" And Rodney made the crazy sign pointing to his own forehead.

"Are you saying I was imagining it?"

"It's not beyond the realms of possibility, is it?" Even though Rodney was directly behind Sheppard, the two were squaring up to one another.

"Now, now, boys!" intervened Sam. "If someone else de-cloaked the Temple, they should be here. And we'll see them."

"That's what we said before, and there wasn't," said Rodney. "Look at the HUD." And he pointed to display that was still active, "no life signs!"

"There were no life signs, last time! Interference, you said, remember?" bickered Sheppard.

"But there's no interference this time! Everything else is working fine!"

"And if John de-cloaked it," Sam managed to interrupt, "even unknowingly, there has to be a reason. And we won't find out any answers sitting here arguing." Sheppard roughly hit the hatch button, and they all prepared to disembark.

"Of course, there is a third theory," offered Radek. "Rodney believes this place to be of Ancient origin. Is the de-cloaking device recognising the Jumper, also of Ancient origin?"

"That's an idea," agreed Sam, encouragingly.

"No, it's not anywhere _near _an idea!" said Rodney, immediately disparaging Radek's suggestion. "We flew right over the top last time and nothing happened. We parked two miles away and the Temple was de-cloaked. So that's a no." Sam felt sorry for the obviously disappointed Radek.

Sam, once out of the Jumper, drew some deep breaths, taking pleasure in the clear blue sky overhead. It was good merely to be out of the confines of the small craft. On the ground for only a few moments and she could already sense the unique freshness in the air of Alora. The team's Mission Reports had suggested an idyllic paradise, and although not one of the Team had used those exact words, no one could deny the tranquillity of the place - no one, that is, except for Sheppard. She could see he sensed trouble. He had walked some paces ahead, towards the Temple and although his P90 wasn't at shoulder height, it was nonetheless ready in his hands. Sam hurried and reached his side.

"It is so peaceful here. But you feel a threat?"

"Yeah, well, the feeling that someone's playing cat and mouse with you sort of does that to a guy." She stood in front of him so he was forced to stand still. She surveyed the surroundings, loosely pointing with her own rifle.

"If someone were here, they would have made themselves known by now, right?"

He pulled a face, unwilling to concede but compelled to.

"Look, I don't know what I'm doing here," he said. "If you want me to do guard duty, then I'll guard." He paused and looked away towards the valley, unable to meet her eyes. "It's what I do best, soldier stuff," he admitted quietly. "I don't feel any different." _Apart from the weird dreams that is. _"I feel like the same old John Sheppard. I just want everything to go back to normal... Don't expect me to do that other stuff... Any Ancienty stuff... I can't do that."

Rodney limped past, accompanied by Radek struggling with two backpacks and a case of equipment.

"Forget it, Sam, you'll never talk sense into him." Rodney and Radek had reached the steps.

"Now how am I going to get up that lot?" asked Rodney.

"Me also," said Radek, sorrowfully looking down at all his baggage.

Rodney called back to the other two. "Now it's 'imaginary' people spying on us and activating cloaks. Next it'll be ghosts. The ghooost of Eliosus-"and he rolled the word 'ghost' in mock scariness.

"Eliosus?" asked Sheppard sharply. And then covered his expression straight away. It had happened quickly. But Sam had seen it. And there had been more than mere curiosity in the question.

Rodney had already hauled himself up a couple of steps. Radek was awkwardly attempting to assist him _and_ balance the bags.

"Yes. Eliosus. The Ancient who built this place. Are you two coming or not?"

"The name means something to you?" Sam asked Sheppard, as they too began to ascend the steps and relieved Radek of his heavy load.

"I… may have heard it mentioned somewhere before."

"I doubt that. Rodney and I didn't hear about him ourselves till this morning." Rodney was quite breathless with the effort of the climb and by painstakingly taking the steps one at a time was holding the others up.

"Will you quit that?!" suddenly demanded Sheppard irritably.

"What?" replied Rodney.

"With the limping!"

"Huh, unlike some other people we know, I haven't the luxury of self-healing. And yes, though my ankle isn't as painful as formerly, I am trying to prevent-"

"-At least, let the rest of us go by!" And Sheppard pushed his way past Rodney. Sam followed. She felt Sheppard was being unreasonable and that his impatience was more due to the direction of the conversation than anything personal with Rodney. And she certainly wasn't about to forget the subject if that was what he was hoping.

"Rodney managed to obtain some DV footage before your… fall… of an inscription found inside," explained Sam.

"Only it was ancient Ancient, so to speak," joined in Rodney.

"We could understand parts but not all so we sent it to Daniel Jackson for confirmation. He relayed the translation this morning, apologising for the delay but had been unable to make sense of it entirely. A sort of footnote, you see, was in… Mayan."

"Mayan?" asked Radek surprised. They'd all reached the summit of the stairs now. Sheppard entered the hall and briefly checked it out before returning to stand just within the shadows of the doorway.

"The timescale and the geography are just all wrong," said Rodney as they began to unpack various pieces of equipment out of the bags. Rodney continued with the explanation, in a voice that suggested he didn't believe a word he was saying. "Eliosus was top notch Ancient. One of the first apparently. And he had his own little cult who liked to meditate and have a go at Ascension, millennia before our mainstream Ancients came to it. He built this place for his clan, sort of like your sanctuary place," he nodded at Sheppard. Sheppard grimaced as he remembered the six month slice of his life trapped on that planet, while all around did nothing but meditate. "I guess, that would account for the presence of a cloaking device. Eliosus then took himself a wife." Sam detected Sheppard tense in the semi-darkness. "A Mayan princess, no less. Was so enamoured of her that he refashioned the building in her honour."

"Which is why the Temple is not of Ancient design," agreed Radek. "But it is carved out of solid rock. It must have taken forever."

"True. But Eliosus didn't have forever, for despite, having apparently lived thousands of years, he disappeared. Died or something. The translation says, literally, 'he was lost.'

Sheppard bit his lip. Remembering something.

'_We do not want to lose him again.'_

"That was careless of them," he said lightly.

"Like I said before, it's the stuff of fairy tales," continued Rodney.

"You mean it's romantic," smiled Sam. She knew a remark like that would throw Rodney off balance and it did.

"Wha…?" he reddened, not at all sure he'd heard her correctly. As much as he found Katie Brown endearing, there was always a place in his hea…, no, he hadn't meant to think that. He shook his head.

"Anyway, as I've also said before, the timescale and geography are all wrong. The story expects us to believe that Eliosus existed here since time began and then somehow ended up, apparently on Earth, six thousand years _after_ the Ancients made their escape there, to take himself a Mayan bride, and _then_ get himself back _here_ to build a Temple for her."

"Multiple ascensions," stated Sam.

"What… you think so?" said Rodney weakly. It always unnerved him how she came up with plausible solutions in an instant, destroying any set preconceptions he might already hold.

"Has to be the answer."

"You think he could do that?"

"No one has said it can't be done. Right. Now. Who's going to give Radek and me the guided tour?" Sam looked from Rodney to Sheppard. She was hoping it would be Sheppard. It was partly for his benefit that they were here, after all, and she wanted to quiz him about Eliosus. She believed he knew more than he was letting on. Though how that could be, was a mystery to her.

"I'll stand guard," Sheppard volunteered rather too quickly. He'd sensed her intention and aimed to avoid her. He stepped away from the group, turning his back to face down the stairway.

Sam was going to object but relented.

"Don't you go falling now. And mind the butterflies!" shouted Rodney with paternal mocking, as they entered the building, Sheppard pulled a face. He remembered that day clearly enough without being reminded some more, and had to admit to a reluctance to go out onto the platform. In fact, he even felt unwilling to enter the building full stop. This wasn't a desire for self-preservation. He'd tackle anything. It was the feeling of the same cold eeriness he had felt three days ago. That he alone seemed to sense. And it shouldn't be so. This was a shrine devoted to a beautiful woman. Perhaps it was her who was haunting the Temple. Perhaps it was her who was haunting _him_. Damn, he was a Lieutenant Colonel in the American Air Force and ghosts were definitely not his thing. But this was another galaxy…

The others had entered the building. He heard clicking sounds as flashlights were switched on. And then Radek speaking.

"The static in here. It nearly makes your hair stand on end."

"And you should know." Sheppard imagined Rodney looking over the top of the diminutive Czech scientist's head in his usual derisory fashion. Radek continued.

"The hum… it is like being in a transformer… the energy output must be tremendous. And you did not find the source?"

"No, we didn't hardly have the chance because of the accident, did we?" retorted Rodney, not minding then, that Sheppard could hear.

"But Rodney, you never mentioned… this noise… it nearly vibrates… all this just to generate power for cloaking… though the building isn't cloaked now…" It was Sam.

"That's because it wasn't like this before!" came Rodney's voice echoing loud and clear. "I'm going downstairs! Radek you can stay on this floor. Sam… well, er…" He couldn't exactly give Sam orders now as she was technically his boss.

"It's fine. I'll come with you," her voice becoming more distant as they descended to the lower floor.

Their voices faded away totally. And Sheppard could also hear the hum that Sam had referred to. And Radek scuffling about in one of the rooms. He felt restless. Bored with pacing the small area at the top of the steps. He stooped down and gathered up a handful of loose stones, throwing them one by one, as hard and far as he could. It helped marginally with his frustration. Dammit, he did not want to be here. But back in Teyla's room, Sam had intimated that it was either this or lock and key.

And infuriatingly, she'd read him like a book. Eliosus. The name _did_ mean something to him. But he wasn't about to admit he'd dreamt it, was he? Or had seen the lady in his room calling that name? Yeah, it'd be lock and key alright. And they'd throw that key away as far as he was throwing these stones…

Sheppard could hear Radek moving around close by again. He considered going in to lend a hand.

He turned.

And that's when he saw the Ancient at the bottom of the steps.

* * *

"Look! I told you! Hold the light _there_, not there!" Rodney's earlier reservations about giving orders to Sam had obviously evaporated. They were both stooping over a lower section of a corridor wall, with Rodney chipping away at a crumbling hole.

"See, more of it!" Sam straightened up. "This whole place is carved out of the natural stone, but somehow, and heavens knows how, has a metal framework embedded in the solid rock. An electrical conduit system?"

Rodney also stood, and pointed a sensor at the wall. "It's definitely energy bearing. Think it's thermal? But there should be a control panel somewhere."

Radek's flashlight lit up the far end of the corridor and he could be heard descending the stairs.

"Ah, there you are!" as he half-blinded them shining the light directly into their faces as he approached. His own face glowed an eerie blue from the open data pad he was carrying. "And you too have discovered the containment unit?" He sounded excited.

"Containment unit?" asked both Sam and Rodney, surprised.

"Yes. You mean you did… not… discover…" He looked from one to the other, doubtfully, wondering if he should point out that his superiors were being a little slow not to realize these facts for themselves. "It has to be. I've found traces of it all over the upper floor, extending up into that roof affair, and reaching down here. It probably goes further into the ground itself. The humming has stopped now. Listen… But when active, I was able to pick up a force field between all the conduits. It's weak, inefficient, unstable, barely recognisable as a field… after all, we're effectively standing in its very centre. I've mapped the points I was able to locate. And it's odd, because the field, itself, formed a sort of… gyrating figure eight. An infinity band, if you like. I came down here for verification. It's looking like the unit forms an octahedron. It is no accident this building is the shape it is. The unit fits just so neatly inside the walls." He attempted to illustrate with his hands but it was difficult with the data pad in one and the flashlight in the other. "I think the story of Eliosus and his beloved might be nothing more than a red herring. This place was constructed for a very specific purpose." He was nodding gravely as he held out his datapad for them to see. The screen went blank, however. And he swore in Czech.

"And in this theory of yours, where's the power source, hm?" asked Rodney, folding his arms. He realized the answer immediately and snapped his fingers. "The rock formation itself! It resembles naquadah after all!"

"That is what I believe. We can take samples this time to check," said Radek, glad to have Rodney on his side for once.

"Yes, but aren't you forgetting the absence of control panels?" queried Sam.

"No. There are eight of them," said Radek matter-of-factly, not bothering to explain further. He was prepared to spoon feed them but only to a degree. And he was still attempting to rectify the problem with his data pad.

"There are?" asked Rodney, still unable to fathom it out.

"The Obelisks," confirmed Sam.

"My pad is not working again. Too much interference. I had to keep popping outside to prepare this, as it was. Colonel Sheppard has gone for a walk, incidentally."

"A walk?" Sam was amazed at Radek's revelation of a possible containment unit but was equally so at the news that Sheppard might have casually taken himself off on a stroll.

Rodney tried correcting him. "Of course, you're not familiar with military parlance as you would be if you have travelled offworld as many times as some people we could mention. You mean he's taking a look round? He's doing a sweep of the area? Gone on a recon?"

"No," said Radek, carefully considering his answer, "he did say walk… It's alright isn't it? He said you'd probably be another hour and he would be back by then."

"I guess…" trailed off Sam. If Sheppard needed to clear his head, to sort out some issues, then perhaps he should go... _for a walk_. It wasn't as if they needed a guard at the door. She was well enabled to take care of herself and her team after eleven years of experience on the Stargate Programme. But then…

"If what Radek says is true and the force field is now inactive, then isn't it possible that whatever had been contained, is... now loose?"

"But it was inactive on our last visit," pointed out Rodney.

"Yes, and Sheppard fell off the platform."

A low rumbling noise like thunder sounded above their heads. All three looked upwards, apprehensive, their expressions exaggerated in the semi-darkness.

"I think we should go upstairs," suggested Sam.

"Perhaps even return to the Jumper," recommended Radek.

"Like now would be good," added Rodney.

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

_Thanks to reviewers... and, I guess, to all of you who've placed story alerts coz that's kinda support too!!_

_But... ouch!... another smack on the hand over Lorne? Isn't it time, though, he was given a meatier role and stop merely bringing the main cast their slippers, so to speak? Some Lorne angst and some Lorne whump is about due... though as he's carrying the sub plot here, I haven't the space or time to go into that too deeply... perhaps one day, I'll have to write a tag and square things... But read between the lines and imagine how he must be thinking to be behaving the way he does, when we all know he's such a nice guy really... there! you've written your own tag..._

_In the meantime... we're all concerned for Shep and the three scientists..._

_And there's a story within a story..._

* * *

Chapter Six

He _had_ to be an Ancient. They all wore those crisp beige and cream linen things, didn't they? This one wore a robe overhung with a long tabard fastened at the shoulders. An appearance more suited to the corridors of Atlantis of long ago than here. A cursory wave from the man. Who began to walk across the level ground in the direction of the stream. Stopped and waited. Perhaps he wanted Sheppard to follow? Certainly, Sheppard might get some answers. He hesitated, however. Undecided.

This was a local inhabitant? Someone who'd been watching him on these last couple of trips? And they lived where? In other cloaked buildings? A threat? _Yeah, an old man in sandals, some threat, John!_

No. Damn, this had to be another hallucination...

Radek came out at that moment, studying a data pad and muttering in Czech. Sheppard watched the scientist's face, searching for a reaction to the stranger at the bottom of the stairs.

There was none. Radek was apparently oblivious to the presence of the Ancient. _Now, why wasn't that surprising? _

Radek became conscious of the stare and looked up from his work,

"Anything the matter, Colonel?" Radek might be considered a bit weird by some but he had a whole load of empathy to more than compensate.

"No, nothing at all," replied Sheppard, casually trying to sound and look convincing. And then made up his mind. "Tell Colonel Carter I've gone for a walk. You should be another hour. I'll be back by then."

"Yes. Yes. Of course," assured Radek, pushing his spectacles back onto the bridge of his nose, blinking at Sheppard as he made a quick descent of the steps.

Sheppard caught up with the Ancient at the edge of the stream. He was greying and balding, and rather portly around the waist, but had cleared the ground fast and with agility. The path here beside the water was open and they were able to walk side by side, occasionally picking their way round large tufts of tall reed-like grasses. The Ancient didn't seem to be keen on conversation, however. Perhaps they use telepathy, Sheppard thought… But that met with little response.

"So... you… er…live round here?" asked Sheppard eventually. The man gave him an odd look as a reply.

"It's nice," conceded Sheppard. The pleasant way the wind rustled through the leaves and the way the sun caught the stream rippling over pebbles wasn't entirely lost on him.

"Of course, you don't technically live anywhere, do you? You're Ascended, right?" Sheppard was guessing. "That's why you're… not real."

"Oh, I am real, I am certain of that," spoke the man at last, evading nearly all the questions and asking his own. "Do you not recognise me?"

"You guys kinda all look the same. You know… old and wise." The man smiled. As there might have been a compliment in there somewhere.

"A name might jog the memory," suggested Sheppard. Though why the man thought Sheppard ought to know him was a mystery.

"Menos."

"No. That didn't do it." They had now reached the tree line and were compelled to duck from time to time under low willow-like trees hanging over the water. The air here was damp and cooler in the shadows.

"Where are we going?" asked Sheppard, half expecting a cryptic reply. He was sure Sam would be pleased with him if she could see him now. _Opening up to possibilities_. Walking with an Ancient... An Ascended... Whatever…

"I would like you to meet someone. But-" he stopped to face Sheppard, "-you will not need that."

He indicated Sheppard's gun.

"You want me to hand over my weapons?" Sheppard was doubtful.

"Oh, I don't want them," the man waved his hand dismissively. "Just put them down somewhere. Anywhere." And he continued to walk on.

"Perhaps you could tell me who we're going to see?" Sheppard called after him. The man didn't reply. "A surprise, eh?" Sheppard ruefully laid his P90 against a tree and removing his handgun placed that beside it. The man had that indescribable ethereal quality of Ancients... Ascendeds... Whatever... That Sheppard doubted he could take him down even if he ever wanted to. He resolved though, to keep his knife. He then practically had to jog to catch up again.

"First," said Menos, "I have an apology to make."

"You do?"

"On your last visit. When you fell. We were to blame."

"You were?" Sheppard glanced back along the path, wondering if he should go and retrieve his guns.

"Over the years, we have had the occasional need to protect ourselves from intruders. Wraith. Rarely humans, though it happens. We have a system in place that takes out the leader. Take out the leader, and disorder and retreat follows. A military strategy that you would appreciate I'm sure."

Sheppard _was_ impressed but he wished he hadn't been the one to have to try it out.

"So I didn't just lose my balance?"

"Oh, I think you did."

"Subtle, eh?"

"However, the system has corrupted. It has, after all, been in place-"

"-Since the beginning of time."

"Yes." Menos stopped, his face deadly serious. "Since the beginning of the relevance of time. Our protective systems, you see, were established to recognise the approach of Ancients and it failed to recognise you." Sheppard fell silent. He was happy to walk and talk with the guy, but… this really wasn't what he wanted to hear.

"You have a reluctance to admit who you are." It was a statement. Not a question. The man just knew.

Sheppard coughed. "We returned to discover the trigger of the DNA mutation-"

"-Mutation? It is hardly that!" Menos scoffed and continued to walk. Sheppard followed. "There was no trigger as such. It is complex. But merely being on this planet is sufficient. It possesses certain… characteristics. You derive your energy from that of Epiquaaya."

"Epiquaaya?"

"This planet." Sheppard pulled a face. Suddenly he liked Rodney's name of Little Alora a lot.

"Its unique energy allowed your DNA to be reset to base. To revert back to status quo. Reactivate genes that had been dormant."

"But since I've never been an Ancient, how could I have been 'reset,' as you say?"

"No. John Sheppard hasn't. Eliosus, however, now that's a different matter."

Sheppard stopped dead in his tracks. The Ancient, however, proceeded on his way. Sheppard called after him.

"Hey! Are you saying what I think you're saying, that I'm _somehow_ this Eliosus guy?" Of course, it would figure. It would explain a lot. In his head, that's what a little voice was saying. But a whole army of bigger voices was shooting the little guy down...

Menos stopped and pondered. "Yes. 'Somehow' would be a good word. You cannot possibly _be_ Eliosus. He was my friend and we walked together along these same paths many millennia ago."

"But you… lost him?" Sheppard was closer to the man again.

"Yes, we did," Menos seemed saddened by the memory. "You need to know the story. I was hoping…" he looked ahead, eyes following the stream. "But it does not matter if you hear it from me...

Eliosus was one of the earliest of Ancients, among the first to evolve to reach that higher level of intelligence and initiate the great technological advances that would one day be enjoyed in Atlantis. An outstanding philosopher and psychic, he was among the first to conceive the idea of Ascension though it was many years before it became common practice among the Ancients. He established this… this garden island for followers who were likeminded. Its undisturbed peace and tranquillity facilitated meditation, and were still there to delight in after Ascension if you so chose. We were thus able to enjoy corporeal pleasures here after Ascension, long before the Mandate that forbade such things. When the Mandate came, we were naturally frowned upon by the other Ascendeds, but because of Eliosus' magnificent mind, his status in Ancient history and his… work here, his eccentricities and aberrances were tolerated. The Ascendeds also introduced the policy of non-interference in the affairs of humans that Eliosus flouted to extreme. He possessed such a zest for life and adventure. He led an independent charmed existence, evading all the nastiness of the Ori conflict. Though there was nothing he liked more than visit planets, helping out whole civilisations."

Menos stopped here, having reached a large fallen branch. He took the opportunity to sit and rest, inviting Sheppard, with his hand, to do likewise. Sheppard declined and propped himself up against a tree trunk. He was prepared to patiently listen. When he was a kid, he had an old schoolteacher who told good stories and no-one interrupted him either. The Ancient reminded him a lot of that teacher.

"So, he was a sort of Super Ancient?"

"Yes. You could say that," considered Menos, and then resumed his story. "Earth was his particular favourite. It had, after all been his birthplace. It is an unstable planet in more ways than one, perpetually caught up in catastrophes - floods, volcanic eruptions, earthquakes, famine, disease, war, despots. Of course, he audaciously used the Atlantis gate whenever he pleased, even after the Atlanteans evacuated back to Earth. During the Mayan era, he even took a wife as he had assumed human form at that time. He taught them all he knew of astrology and was responsible for the Ascension of practically that whole race. Remember, it is written in your history books, that the Mayan civilisation disappeared, probably due to plague and warfare? It is not true. Eliosus took them to the mountains and they ascended. There _were_ warring factions remaining, however, and it was, while acting as arbitrator between two sides, that he was assassinated. It should not have been a problem to him. He should have been able to Ascend again. He had done so on many similar occasions before. He promised... he would always return." Menos shook his head, apparently still unable to come to terms with the demise of Eliosus even after the long passage of time.

He continued. "To perpetually and habitually take human form and Ascend meant he became permanently trapped in the human cycle of birth and death and was… lost to us. We miss him greatly…

You recall that I told you the energy of this planet was unique and complex. It is not wholly derived from the electrical impulses in the ore but is residual of Eliosus' own psychic energy. Every time that he returned he further augmented it. Power from the collective consciousness of all those he had cared for. At his peak, this was tremendous. Now we are left, weakened and depleted. There only remains seven of us in number, insufficient even to-" The man stopped. A flicker of a worried expression. He stood and began to walk again, turning his face away from Sheppard. And Sheppard pulled himself away from his tree trunk to follow.

"Not enough to…?" reminded Sheppard.

"It was nothing... On Earth, you like conspiracy theories? I have one." He spoke with a false lightness. Probably to conceal that earlier evasion. "The Ascendeds finally condemned him. By helping the Mayans on such an enormous scale he brought the sort of attention to himself that they could no longer disregard. He had joked once that that day would come. They had already made him swear not to pass on any technology on to any race, an oath we are all bound by. It angered him tremendously, especially as it fell in a period of Wraith cullings. So he was punished. As I said, condemned to live as a mortal for eternity, trapped in the cycle of life and death. They even wiped all memory of him. You will find no mention of him in Atlantis databases. And Epiquaaya... Alora... only signifies as a site of a mine..."

"You know that?"

"Yes. I delved about a little while I was there."

"And that was?" Sheppard felt he knew the answer already.

"I came with you. After you fell." _Hitched a ride. _Those had been Sheppard's words. _To observe,_ _and only intervene if necessary. _Those had been the words of the Ancient on the slope. This had been the robed man in his dream though he hadn't remembered him. Yeah, they did look all the same... old and wise...

"I would have saved you, if needed, but you were coping fine on your own. And yes, I _can_ read your mind. You wish to learn how you fit in with the Eliosus story?"

Sheppard felt tempted to shake his head.

"Ha'ashme, the wife of Eliosus, bore him three children. One son chose not to Ascend. You know your American history of nomadic Indian tribes. His descendants are your forbears. You are of Eliosus' bloodline." Menos paused, waiting for some sort of reaction.

Sheppard rubbed a hand over his face. "Well, that's interesting. And you were able to find that out on Atlantis too?" Sheppard wondered how he could have gained access to files without being detected. And he must have made a link with Earth. Rodney had better tighten up on security when they got back.

"The most recent genealogy. Yes. Earlier history. No. That comes from his family. We lost contact with Eliosus but not with this son and his descendants. Not for a few generations at least." Menos hesitated again.

"You're going to tell me more," said Sheppard with some misgivings. He just knew he wasn't going to like what was coming next.

"Whilst on Atlantis, I took the opportunity to look at Dr. Keller's work on your DNA."

"Been quite the busy bee, haven't you?"

"Though it wasn't entirely necessary. Much of this is known to me already... Dr. Keller merely believes your DNA has altered. There is more to it than that. Your DNA is an exact carbon copy of Eliosus. None of your relatives could possibly be identical. It was his intention to return to us. And he has done so through you." Both men were silent for a few moments. All that could be heard was the rustle of their passage brushing past shrubs and the occasional splash from the stream.

Sheppard was oblivious to his surroundings and frowned.

"Well… I'm duly stunned, thank you."

"I know what you're thinking-"

"-Literally." Sheppard shrugged.

"Yes. That we cannot prove any of this scientifically. Too much time has passed to obtain Eliosus' DNA. And if we could, some might say it is pure coincidence they are the same. You have to take my word for it, that the two mirror each other exactly. And there has to be a reason why. To me that reason is that you are Eliosus, or at the very least, carry a part or all of his consciousness. This is blind faith. I am intelligent enough to realise, however, that if I cannot persuade you to admit it, and... I am aware of your reluctance to do so, then there is little point continuing with this any further. But-"

"-We're going to meet someone who you're hoping _can_ persuade me?"

"Yes."

"Ha'ashme?"

"Yes."

"So you set a beautiful woman on me aiming to soften things up a little, huh? That's a little devious."

"It's not like that. She _was_ your wife."

"Ah, _might_ have been. I've met her before and she didn't persuade me then." Sheppard frowned again. "She activated the 'Gate?" He remembered that Chaya on Proculus could do that.

"Yes. It weakened her."

"So now she's… stronger? Well, thanks for the warning."

"That's why… we hoped… you would meet… but not on Atlantis... it was difficult... for her... to materialise there... the beach, however... And although… it was constructed… in her honour… she does not like... the Temple, you call it?"

"A bit spartan and derelict. Yeah, I could understand a lady not taking to it."

Menos appeared distracted. From time to time, glancing anxiously up to the sky. Ok, so it was getting a little cloudy here and there. And an occasional sudden breeze sent leafy shivers through the trees. But it was kind of weird… why would an Ancient who had, or thought he had, just welcomed back a long lost friend be so preoccupied with the weather. It seemed impossible to believe it could ever rain here. Perhaps that was bothering him.

"Ha'ashme is waiting on the beach. The stream leads there. I have an urgent matter to attend to," and abruptly, Menos turned and hurried back the way they had come. Sheppard watched him disappear into the greenery wondering what an Ancient enjoying corporeal pleasures in Paradise could possibly have to attend to. That was urgent. He shrugged and dutifully followed the path again for the last two hundred metres to the beach.

So now what?

Menos and his story. Another story of Pegasus told by yet another old man. They'd listened to hundreds of these on past missions. And yeah, they'd have to listen to hundreds more. He felt a sort of detachment from the story of Eliosus. Little to do with him. Another story of Pegasus told by yet another old man that could not be substantiated. Let the man believe in his story. It was nothing to do with John Sheppard. Life would go on. And the story would be forgotten...

Perhaps he should have asked Menos about ZPMs? Somehow he didn't think ZPMs were Menos' thing. If Rodney ever found out he'd been talking to an Ascended and hadn't asked? The flac would be unbelievable… But he was never going to tell Rodney anything… He wasn't going to tell anyone, anything… they'd think he'd gone crazy…

Perhaps he had…

He _was_ seriously starting to doubt his own sanity. He shouldn't be _seeing_ Ha'ashme, should he? _In his quarters._ That had to be crazy. Had he just invented the whole Menos episode. Some sort of rationale to explain Ha'ashme? That had to be crazy…

Perhaps he should see the shrink? That had to be crazy. No. They really would lock him up for sure and throw away that key.

An erotic fantasy, they'd say. And he winced at the idea. That's how shrinks worked. Turning stuff around. He remembered the last time. He swore to himself he'd never see a shrink again. Ever. Not even after… Kolya.

Heightmeyer.

"You're not in a relationship at the moment?" That really pissed him off. What had that to do with anything? He did his job, didn't he?

"You haven't been in a proper relationship since your divorce?" No. Even Chaya had fizzed out. And she had been a goddess... What would Heightmeyer have said to that then? No one good enough for you, Sheppard?

"And what do you think that says about your commitment, in general?" Hell! Talk about reading between the lines! Just ask around. No one has problems with that.

"And you lost your mother at an early age? And you are now alienated from your father?" But when they'd been together as a family… it'd still hurt. Better that way. In his line of work. No ties. No commitment. Except to his Team. To those on Atlantis. Better that way…

The vast expanse of sand that opened up before him was deserted. Ha'ashme hadn't made the appointment then. Perhaps attending to something important. That was urgent. He wasn't particularly bothered either way. Menos had said plenty. There was nothing she could add. Still he had come all this way… A lady's prerogative to be late, they say. He'd give her five minutes.

He walked out towards the shoreline. By habit, he went to rest his hands on his rifle normally clipped to his vest. Nothing for it but to put them in his pockets. True, weapons would have been out of place in these surroundings. But he was totally out in the open and felt vulnerable.

So, what did they expect him to do? Sam? Or Menos? Come out here and meditate? Comtemplate a life as Eliosus?

Hell, what was he doing here? Going through the motions, just for Sam.? Curiosity?

He knew Ha'ashme was… good-looking. Really goodlooking, considering she was, what, four thousand years old. Just listen to what the lady had to say then. No harm in it. But the more he thought about it, the more he felt inclined to just turn around and forget the whole thing. This would be like meeting his ex-wife. If he ever did. It would be… awkward. Since that was what Ha'ashme was. A wife of long ago…

From time to time he kicked at the shallow water. The surf was less gentle today, foaming, trailing with seaweed, throwing up a salty spray that he could already taste on his lips. Shadows from an occasional cloud turned the water grey from the former inviting blue of three days ago. To his left were the rocks visible from the Jumper. Waves many feet high noisily crashed over them and clawed back into the sea. He headed in their direction. That way he could do a loop and return back along the stream. The brisk cool breeze ruffled his black hair and he regretted his earlier decision to wear only a t shirt under his vest. He wondered briefly if he should try and contact Carter. He looked up over the trees, now swaying in the wind, to the direction of the Temple. Rain clouds were certainly building up in the centre of the island.

A sudden long wave caught him unawares and he sidestepped quickly, turning as he did so. The receding water washed away his boot prints. But further back, the way he'd just walked, the trail was still there.

And another.

Of delicate bare feet.

Ha'ashme had been beside him all the time.


	7. Chapter 7

_Thanks reviewers! You've no idea what a relief it is that you liked that last chapter! I've fretted so much over plausibility. Continuity is a worry too. Especially now I have a few plates up and spinning. I've already had to nip back and change something... do you think anyone will notice?... And I haven't even got to the Wraith and the Reps. and the... no... forget that... you didn't read that, ok?..._

_Anyway, back to the beach... you boy guys might want to skim read a bit here and us girl guys will catch up later... but don't go away! Things get moving again..._

* * *

Chapter Seven

The world became almost silent.

The rhythmic whisper sigh of the surf. _Missed you, Eliosus. Missed you, Eliosus._

A vacuum blankness of white. Coloured only by Ha'ashme's long robes of pale blue floating noiselessly around her.

'_John._' Her voice were his thoughts.

'_You call me John now_?' He bit his lip. He'd responded in thought also. He'd wanted this meeting to be on his own terms. But he'd allowed a link that was hers.

'_I am sorry. We can speak normally…_'

'_Little point, when you know what I'm thinking…_'

'_You are... harsh.'_

'_I'm…' _But his thoughts were so mixed up then. He doubted very much she could read or understand him_…_

'_Yes. I called you John. For Eliosus is not there.__' _Got that right. And he bit his lip, coz yeah, he _was_ being harsh.

_'For years, I have hoped to find Eliosus but…' _and she was searching his face, searching his eyes, _'now that I think I have, he is not there.'_ She paused._ 'Please do not continue to deny Eliosus. Please do not continue to deny me.'_

She reached to touch him. Hope and fondness in her face.

He backed away, holding up his hands.

'_If you shut us out, you will never discover who you truly are and what you can become. On the behalf of Eliosus, I implore you, do not refuse him the opportunity to _be_ once more. What are you afraid of?_'

'_Stepping aside for another guy for starters. I'm kinda attached to this life.'_

'_It need not be that way__.'_

'_There she goes. All enigmatic like they do. And damn__, she'd hear that too.'_

'_You have little respect for Ascendeds or Ascension. It need not be that way either… Merely to recognise the energy…'_ Ha'ashme stopped, still sensing his continued resistance. She turned away and gazed at the sea that was once again in their world. Soft, blue and shimmering.

Gentle water still hushing. _I have so missed you, Eliosus. I have so missed you, Eliosus._

Tears glistened on her cheeks.

'_Hey!'_ He was surprised that an Ascended could cry. He drew near in sympathy, and then thought the better of it. _There you go, John, always a sucker for a beautiful woman._ She smiled weakly at the slight gesture, nevertheless.

'_I am technically not an Ascended. Menos brought me here when Eliosus… I have wept ever since that day. I am weak and do not deserve your consideration. Menos says my powers are derived from the energy of my nation. But, as I have said, I… am weak. The tears are not to win your compassion. I truly, truly, grieve so. Especially as… as I see so much of Eliosus in you. The restlessness. The need for adventure. Valour. Resilience. Integrity. Loyalty…'_

'_Look! I like praise as much as the next guy, but let's not go over the top!'_ And he managed a smile that cheered her.

'_And modesty,'_ and Ha'ashme returned the smile.

But the sea changed. And the smile disappeared instantly. The sea heaved, brown and swollen. _Do not listen to her, John Sheppard. Do not_ _listen to her._

Her hurt returned. _'You truly cannot remember anything? Nothing of our love for one another? I wish I could help you to remember. Why are you so stubborn? Why won't you remember? Why won't you remember?'_

She turned on him, continuing with her torrent of questions.

'_Why do you deny me? You know how desolate I am? Why did you return here? Was it only because of your army's orders? Why do you torture me with your presence? I thought Menos had explained everything?' _

'_He did.'_ He had no defence. She knew all the answers.

'_He did not convince you?'_ Her eyes intently searching his again. And found nothing. She seemed to harden. _'You must return to your friends now. Go. You do not belong on Epiquaaya. Go. We have achieved nothing here. It was futile.'_

He turned to leave. Brushing for the briefest of moments against her flowing restless robes.

'_I wish... I could help… but… I'm not Eliosus… I'm not that guy... never can be… I'm sorry.'_

It was enough.

Empathy. Sympathy. Pity.

Her robes, the sea, swelled and swirled around them and all was lost in the white light. That rose now at his feet.

He'd connected with her. Again, never his intention. His eyes met hers to protest. Afraid for a moment. But she held his gaze. Captivated. He opened his lips slightly to speak but only allowed in the kiss of her breath, before the white light totally swept over him. She'd taken him. The white light inside him. Her breath inside him. The white light breathing through every pore of his skin. The white light taking her breath through every atom, every molecule of every part of him. His last thought. The heavy pounding of his heart. Slowed to almost nothingness. Beating a slow rhythm that was hers. Till not even thought existed. A world of prethought that all thought emanated from. A world that was white and pure. A sense that he need only enjoy this. An awareness of her womanhood. But it no longer mattered. Her breath outside him. Inside him. No differentiation. He had dissolved into the white light. Stripped naked of physical being, vulnerable to the rapturous touch of her breath. Aware of the ecstasy of her caressing breath. Aware of the sensuous white light that breathed through him. Rousing something deep inside that he never knew existed. Omnipotent. A world that was white and pure. And he shared it with Ha'ashme.

As he had always done…

And the white light shattered like glass.

His own breath and heartbeat again. With shard-cut effort.

And sorrow swept over him. Ha'ashme's overwhelming sorrow of millennia that could not be shut out.

He saw Eliosus. Carefree. Bidding her farewell. Saw the danger and betrayal of the journey. Felt Eliosus' fatal blow. Felt the last sickening gasp as he fell to his knees. Saw, in horror, the spear that penetrated the heart deep. Felt the life blood that flowed and took away the soul. Saw Ha'ashme kneel by his side and stroke his hair one last time. Saw the flames and blackness of the funeral pyre. Felt the struggle to be free of an invisible bond. The struggle to touch her. Felt the utter, utter anguish of Eliosus. And saw the beginning of Ha'ashme's many mourning days.

But he could never again comfort her.

For all eternity.

Why did I leave you? Cried a voice that had not spoken for those thousands of years. Why did I leave you? Sobbed the voice, pitifully, from the man who knelt before her, hiding his face in the folds of her robes. And she knelt also. Touching his lips. Stroking his face. Combing a hand through his hair.

As she had always done…

But the white turned black. And the black turned to fuming clouds of red and brown, cut with lightning. The silence ended, sucking in what seemed every noise of the Universe. A howling hurricane shuddering with thunder. The twisting torment of a black stormy sea. And rain that fell like stones.

'_John! John! You must help! Menos says you must help!'_

Sheppard struggled to come to his senses.

This was real.

With effort against the wind, he stood. Straining to see with the downpour hard on his face. He looked round vainly for Ha'ashme. She'd gone. But where? The whisked up sea spray stung his eyes. Without her protection, rising water had already reached his knees. Breaths turned to gasps with the ice cold blasts of rain. Violently shivering already from heavy drenched clothing. He flinched and held up an arm, as a lightning bolt struck, crashing down a nearby tree, briefly illuminating the brown darkness that had descended over the island.

_'Ha'ashme! Where are you?! What do you mean, I can help?!'_ Even in his head, he was screaming to be heard above the storm.

'_Your friends are in danger! Hurry!' _If Menos or Ha'ashme felt he needed an incentive, it worked. Though he also needed to be moving right now, even if only to save himself. He tried heading back towards the stream. But the tidal surge had met the turbulent outpourings of that once peaceful waterway, transforming the beach into a churning cauldron of water, sand, mud and tree debris. More than once, he stumbled and lost his footing, dragged over by the sucking current, to fall on his hands and knees, blindly scrambling to keep his head above water. The dirty salt water choking in his throat. He was gonna drown out here. He was gonna drown. His friends were in danger and he was gonna drown.

'_Go to the Great Obelisk! Your Obelisk!'_ Sounded like good advice. Though a weird way to put it.

Progress was slow as Sheppard laboured along the tree line, on to the other path. The wind and rain were full in his face and only by turning his head could he gulp in air. And only by seizing hold of tree trunks for support could he hope to remain upright. The branches above him, loud with tossing and twisting. The encroaching sea smashed over the rocks. The noise of the storm was much like a dozen jet fighters firing up at once. Mixed in with an indescribable… wailing was the word that came to mind.

He by-passed the fallen tree and prayed that lightning didn't strike twice. He felt like there was a good chance it would. The electric slashing and ripping of the sky came every couple of seconds. If Sam, Rodney and Radek were in danger then their situation must be pretty dire if this was anything to go by. He was still shaking uncontrollably. Great. Make it through this and die of hypothermia. Perhaps he couldn't though. He'd heal. Wouldn't he?... But Eliosus was lost…

He found the path and headed inland. _'Go to the Obelisk!'_ came Ha'ashme's urgent voice again. And from there he'd find the others and the Jumper easily.

'_No, no! You can help! At the Obelisk!'_

'_How? That's where they are?'_

'_You will know.'_

"You think so?!" he yelled out loud.

Much as he liked Ha'ashme. He was tiring of the voices in the head stuff. He was also tiring of stumbling through the undergrowth. His head was hurting. His ears full of the unrelenting howl of the storm. The path was all but gone. Trees and bushes thrashed, frenzied by the wind. Leaves flew through the air with the driven rain, like demented confetti. He held up a bare arm, now red and raw to protect his face. Branches cracked and crashed to the ground. He was twisting, dodging every obstacle thrown his way.

He'd gone from bored outside the Temple, strolling with an Ancient, sharing with Ha'ashme to… was he really fighting for his life? It was sure starting to feel like it.

He tripped and fell.

Sprawling face down on the sodden earth.

But it was good here. Soft. Quiet even. The screeching storm high above him. One side of his face pressed against the mud. But he didn't care. He didn't have to struggle any longer. His panting breaths slowing. Relaxing. He could rest a little. He could even begin to imagine he wasn't so cold. It was soft. And quiet.

The ground then, just had to go and have a different idea.

It groaned and shuddered and heaved. He madly scrambled to his feet.

But knew by the ominous creaking overhead that he wasn't going to make it...

* * *

"You know, if such a rich seam of Naquadah exists right beneath the Temple, we would seriously have to consider digging up the whole building," said Rodney.

"Not if this planet flips up storms like this, we won't. It'd be far too dangerous." Annoyingly, Alora was looking like yet another to be ruled off the list. Sam peered through the Jumper windscreen, looking anxiously upwards at the angry sky. She flinched back as debris thrown by the wind smacked hard on the glass.

"That was close." She turned round. Unease in the eyes of Radek and Rodney mirrored her own.

"This Jumper is designed to withstand everything space can throw at it. I'm sure it can hold off a bit of bad weather." Despite his assurances, Rodney and Radek still considered it prudent to sit in the rear section of the Jumper, well away from the window.

Radek carried on the conversation, anything to avoid thinking too much about the constant flickering of lightning and the cracking of thunder.

"I still believe it was a containment unit."

Rodney leaned back and folded his arms. "No. Merely a means to channel power to the surface." He had that smiling 'I am right' look on his face.

"Oh and for what purpose?" challenged Radek. "The Temple had lighting? The Temple had air-conditioning? The Temple had computer systems? There are no traces now." He knew that in virtually all the places the Pegasus expedition had visited, that sort of Ancient Tech. just did not decompose to nothingness.

"What I can't figure out," said Sam joining them, sitting beside Radek, "is how the metal conduits were installed inside the solid rock? I mean that just has to be impossible, you would think."

"Hmm…that's a conundrum…I'm sure given enough time and more conducive surroundings-" stalled Rodney.

"-No. I have it," said Sam simply.

"You do? Already?" enquired a deflated Rodney.

"Yes. It's easy. The Temple was originally constructed in unit blocks, thus enabling the assembly of the metal framework between the blocks. Subsequent high levels of electromagnetic forces generated by the rock chemistry led to the fusion of the blocks, and this amalgamation-"

Sam stopped talking and all three looked up, fearful, as the wind outside intensified to a high pitched scream.

"It is like the howling of hell," murmured Radek in an awed voice.

"Oh, that is so Transylvanian of you! And which Czech university did you attend that ran a course in vampires, ghouls and werewolves!"

"Transylvania is nowhere near Prague!" his national pride truly affronted judging from the expression on his face. "If you think-"

"-Boys!" interrupted Sam, cutting dead the character assassination that threatened to ensue becoming louder than the storm. Radek looked suitably admonished. "Look, I've had enough!" finished Sam.

Rodney began a protest.

"-No. It's not you…" she shook her head. "I've had enough of sitting around waiting." Rodney knew what she meant then. His expression changed as his own fears re-surfaced. Which he counter-argued out loud.

"But we haven't given him the half an hour yet. We agreed. He's a regular boy scout. He'll be safe as long as there's no marauding butterflies. He'll find shelter."

"Yes. And like where?" muttered Radek, still feeling fractionally belligerent.

"Honestly, look at it," she approached the front of the Jumper again. "Anyone out there alone and in the open…" She trailed off. She felt a twinge of guilt as well as concern. She had, after all, insisted that Sheppard came along.

"All the more reason for us not to go out there looking for him, admirable as the maternal instinct is-" Sam cut him dead with a withering look. She turned to Radek.

"You say Colonel Sheppard followed the stream?" Radek nodded.

"You're going then?" Though Rodney had already resigned himself to the fact.

"Yes. _We _are. It's not safe alone. We've just said that." She spoke to Radek, again. "Obviously, he couldn't have returned that way." She sincerely hoped he hadn't. In the flashes of the red lightning, they could make out the stream, or rather torrent, swollen four times its former size and darkly carrying everything it had destroyed in its wake. "Ok. We'll take the Obelisk path then."

"Wouldn't it be a good idea if one of us were to remain, you know, in case, he comes back a different way and we're not here?" Radek gave Rodney a disparaging look. Sam also knew what he was hinting at.

"And that would be you?"

"My ankle." He pointed feebly to his feet.

"Fine. Lower the hatch." Though her face said anything but fine. Sam retrieved her P90 from the metal storage in the Jumper's racks and clipped it to her vest.

"This is truly a bad idea," whined Rodney preparing to open the rear door, as Sam and Radek made their way to the back of the Jumper again.

Rodney sighed heavily. Sam had obviously been on Atlantis too long. She was acting just like Sheppard. _We don't leave our_ _men behind_. Sam might as well have said that.

"Are you doubting my abilities to look after us? I did spend ten years in SG1, you know."

"Yeah, I know that you're more than a pretty face…" And caught another withering look thrown his way. "Hey, wait! You might want to see this!" Sam and Radek looked back surprised. "No. It's probably nothing." He held up the life signs detector which had been stashed in its holder by the pilot's seat. It's flashing tell tale lights had caught his eye whilst reaching for the hatch button. "I mean, it's probably yet another malfunction. Due to the storm. But… this is just way too regular to be a simple anomaly. A life sign appearing at seven of the eight Obelisks and a eighth approaching our Obelisk?"

Sam and Radek came back to his side to look more closely at the scanner.

"The eighth one might be Sheppard?" She knew she was grasping at straws. But her instinct had played out right in the past.

"Or not. If I were you, I'd seriously reconsider going out there. Apart from the storm issue. We've already decided that the Obelisks are control points for the Temple. And that begs the question, well, two actually. Who's doing the controlling? And what are they controlling?"

* * *

Sheppard threw himself forward hard.

Hands over his head. The tree smashing down around him. He rolled fast to escape the fracturing branches. That scratched and clawed at him. His eyes shut tight. His ears full of the splintering, crashing explosion. A tug at his ankle. That flicked him over again. The storm. A fighting animal that wanted to grind and beat him down. He cried out-

-But he was clear.

Disorientated, he simply lay there on his back panting for breath. As broken twigs whipped against him and shot into the air like arrows.

_So, that was a lucky break, huh?_

And then glanced sideways at the fallen tree... and yeah, it had been a close thing.

His head hurt more than ever. The noise of the storm just wouldn't let up. And now his ankle throbbed painfully. Thankfully he was so cold now he couldn't feel the cuts that covered his arms and face.

Time to move again.

Wearily, he dragged himself from the ground, wincing, bracing himself against the wind. Limping now. Every muscle ached and every limb a leaden weight. Dammit. Why was he feeling so weak? He kept himself fit. Jogging on Atlantis. Must be a higher gravity force. Rodney hadn't mentioned it. He remembered _that_ twenty mile cross country hike carrying full kit in a thunderstorm on basic training. Following three hours of field drill. The full squad took punishment, covering up for Howard who'd played yet another of his practical jokes after a drinking spree. Hell, the uniform wasn't called fatigues for nothing.

He looked up from time to time, screwing up his face against the rain.

To check the falling tree situation. He didn't intend to get caught out a second time.

It dawned on him that this was no ordinary storm. Not even for an alien planet. The closer to the Temple he had come, assuming he wasn't lost, the redder and browner were the clouds. A dark red eerie glow filled the forest. Even the lightning and the downpour possessed the same red-brown colour. No wonder Menos had been worried. And where was _he _now? Weren't Ascendeds supposed to be able to control the weather?

He shouted for Ha'ashme again. Over and over. But the wailing in the wind intensified. Other voices seemed to scream in the air. Cutting through the boiling, billowing clouds. Flying through the writhing tree tops. Murdering his cries before they were even airbourne.

"Ha'ashme! Ha'ashme!"

But he was alone again in the darkness of millennia...

He stumbled. Falling on all fours.

Before he could rise, a piece of falling timber thumped hard onto his back. Once more he was face down in the mud, groaning.

With effort, he forced himself onto his hand and knees again. And then upright again. He was no sooner standing than a flying branch thwacked him on the shoulder and side of the head, throwing him hard against a nearby tree.

Dazed, he merely clung there. Gasping. Blinking hard against blurring vision. A lightning flash revealed blood washing away in rivulets down his arm and hand. He saw little point getting out a field dressing. He passed the other hand over his face to clear his eyes of water and wet hair plastered there. To focus ahead. And saw nothing of the path. Only the horizontal rain and debris, outlined like red nails against the obscurity and spat by the wind.

He sank down to sit at the base of the tree. This was hopeless. And dumb. Instead of getting beat up like this, rest and wait this storm out. But the others…They could take care of themselves, couldn't they?... But it wasn't safe here. He needed shelter. He needed to reach the Obelisk. Though why, he couldn't understand. He was driven and desperate. But much more of this… He shook his head. Dammit, he was losing it... Keep positive, John. Yeah. Positive. Piece of cake. And he hauled himself up and resolutely carried on.

* * *

At last, there was the Obelisk. And… Sam and Radek. Their faces pale and anxious, coloured by the constant red lightning. The water streaming down their faces and uniforms. Supporting one another against the wind's onslaught. Radek was shouting, his voice all but carried away.

"This is madness! We really have to go back!"

Sam was reluctant."Wait! Look!"

They peered through the downpour hardly able to believe their eyes as Sheppard staggered into the clearing.

"John! Thank God you're safe!" cried a relieved Sam. "You look awful!" she yelled. "We were looking for you! Get to the Jumper! Quick!" They made to leave, expecting Sheppard to follow. Sheppard, however, lurched over to the Obelisk, clutching the stone sides as if for support.

"John!" Sam yelled in alarm. There was something wrong. She left Radek's side, falling to one knee once, struggling to make it over to Sheppard.

In a lightning flash, she saw him grasp one of the hands on the Obelisk.

And both he and the Obelisk disappeared from sight.

* * *

Of course, there wouldn't be a stone Obelisk. This was Ancient technology. A white room. Clinical. Stark contrast to his own wet and dirty physical state. White light. That hurt his eyes and head. After the gloom outside.

But grateful for the quiet at last.

The Obelisk. Now replaced by a white metallic column, floor to ceiling inset with a console.

There was… a start up key? How did he know that? But he hit it, all the same.

Two pads on either side of a keyboard on which to place hands. Just like the chair then. He would have to concentrate. Easier said than done, with every thought suggesting collapsing on the floor would be a good thing.

He closed his eyes. Seconds passed. The screen before him beeped a warning. So he opened them again.

'Invalid Code. Denied Access.'

"Wha the ?" He was too exhausted even to curse.

A second attempt.

Then.

Something like a loudspeaker system activated.

"Colonel John Sheppard. Please desist. You do not have authorised security clearance."

_What now?_ He opened his eyes again. He leaned hard on his hands as nausea came over him. The flashing red of the Console message seemed to spin before him and did little to relieve his headache. And now this infernal noise had started.

"Colonel John Sheppard. Stand down. Repeat. Stand down. You are contravening security protocols."

Sheppard remained in place. Partly because he felt incapable of moving anywhere else.

"Colonel John Sheppard. Stand down. Stand down. Stand down." The voice constant. An echo that would not cease.

"Colonel John Sheppard. Stand down. Stand down."

"I am not…" But he did not dare finish.

"Colonel John Sheppard. If you persist, preventive measures will be taken. Stand down."

"I am not…" he gritted his teeth, breathing hard.

"Stand down. Stand down."

"I am not… John Sheppard... I'm… I'm Eliosus."

The console message turned blue.

'Code Validated. Request Accepted.'

And the storm stopped.


	8. Chapter 8

_Think I came over all Barbara Cartland like in the last Chapter! No one thought that?! You reviewers are too kind..._

_This is sort of the last 'drama' chapter before we go 'adventuring.' Yay!!_

_...And here, Sam goes a-wheedling..._

* * *

Chapter Eight

It was the longest two days he'd ever known.

And yeah, he knew that Rodney would correct him on that point if he ever heard him say it. Fifty two hours Atlantis time was fifty two hours Atlantis time. Immutable.

But it was still the longest two days he'd ever known.

After a brief stay, Dr. Keller had released him from the Infirmary. But Sam still wouldn't reassign him to regular duties. And left it to Jenny to tell him that. And Sam wouldn't answer the radio so he could ask why.

(Though he did know why … he just didn't want to face up to it…)

No. So he could _demand_ to know why. When. How long for? _Anything._

No. So he could demand to know what the hell was going on...

Once, he went to her office. But Lorne was there. To report on yet another mission to the Alora System. And was pretty smug about it too. Another job well done Sheppard guessed. So Sheppard was getting pissed off. Because he had to guess. Because Sam was keeping him at arm's length. Because he wasn't in the know.

He caught glimpses of Sam in corridors. But she'd turn away and ignore him.

And a second time at her office door. "I'm sorry, I'm rather busy at the moment. Can't it wait?" Without even looking up.

"Yes, ma'am." That oughta do it. That oughta get her attention...

So, he was jogging.

A lot.

Down corridors and even along routes he'd never explored before. He should have really been enjoying this down time. But he hated it. Hated it because it gave him time to think. And he didn't want to think. So as he jogged he counted. Did complicated math in his head. Estimated those lengths of corridors. Worked out the light years from here to Earth's moon. And how many Jumpers that would be end to end. How many footballs fitted into a Jumper. And in the space that was left, how much was breathable air. It didn't matter if he were right. Just anything other than Alora. Or Ha'ashme.

And one corridor. A sprint. His iPod loud. Weaving among Atlantis people. So he had to slow. Hey, _they_ were busy. Not forced to kick their heels. Turned a corner. And stopped.

An empty silence.

An eerie silence.

No familiar hum of Atlantis. Even his music had ceased playing.

He checked over his shoulder. Everyone had gone. This was weird.

Instinctively, he backed up against a wall.

_And there was Ha'ashme. Eyes shining and wondrous, taking in all before her._

'_We are truly permitted to be here?'_

His voice, but not his voice.

'_No one is here! No one has been here for six thousand years! Impressed?'_

'_All the glories of the Mayan do not come close… I wish I could have seen it in the days when it was full of its people. This seems so__… unnatural.'_

_And he teased her._ _'No, you wouldn't have liked it one little bit! They would have put you through a medical, poked, prodded and probed! They would not have trusted or liked you even! Now, me, on the other hand…' And he took her in his arms and kissed her._

He had just gotta stop doing that…

"Colonel? Are you ok?" One of Rodney's technicians. The corridor had filled again. "Are you sick? Do you need to see Dr. Keller?"

"What?... No, I'm fine."

And he carried on jogging.

He was right then. He was right not to think. You could go crazy thinking.

* * *

He visited Ronon and Teyla in the gym. Rodney was busy. Liaising with Dr. Lindberg. Analysing info brought back by Lorne.

It was Shepto who was sparring with Ronon. Obviously Shepto had forgiven Ronon for the accusation of last week. Teyla was seated at the window and made a space for him beside her. She wasn't dressed for a work out.

"Sitting out, today, huh?" She nodded.

"Still not feeling well? Hope this is nothing serious?" He asked pensively.

"No. Merely… something I cannot quite throw off."

He was quiet for a moment. "It can't help, missing your people," he commiserated.

"No. No it does not help. And you? You are missing… Ha'ashme?"

"Ha'ashme?" Well, that was a bolt out of the blue. Teyla knew the name, then.

"While you were recovering in the Infirmary, while you slept and I visited once, you called this name. I assume this is a lady?" There was a faint trace of a smirk.

"It is all in the past," he said grimly, attempting to fixate on Ronon and Shepto with their sticks. Damn! He had come here to try and forget.

"Really?" Teyla, somehow, didn't believe him. "Ronon says you were married once. Is it her?"

"No," he replied softly. Silence between them. And he hoped that would be the end of the matter. Teyla persisted, however. But with gentleness. She knew that this might be a delicate subject.

"I sensed that… you must have felt very deeply about this person. To have kept her from the rest of us. It is very difficult, here, on Atlantis, to keep that private place for those we care about…" Her expression, had, somehow, become distant. This was coming from the heart. And was sure tugging at something. "I believe it would be a great pity to allow this relationship to pass. I speak from experience, as one who has lost many people that I have cared for. The time that you spend together, however short, is very precious."

The noise of the fight suddenly stopped and her attention turned to Shepto on the mat, holding a hand to his midrift, winded and gasping for air.

"You lowered your guard too soon before the strike." There was little sympathy from Ronon, who stood hardly breathless, holding his sticks easily in his hands, balancing from one foot to another, waiting for Shepto to stand again.

"But he is doing well, Ronon. He improves everyday," said Teyla, and the clacking of sticks continued.

"You seem more like your old self, today. You are fully recovered?" asked Teyla, turning to Sheppard again.

"You try telling Sam that!"

"When you came round, and you were adamant that you would not have anything to do with Ancient powers, I think she was somewhat…"

"…put out?"

"Yes," said Teyla gratefully. She knew that Sheppard would have supplied a much stronger word. "I think that you are fortunate, John, that Sam allows you so much tolerance in this matter and leaves you with the choice. But perhaps, one day, circumstances might change…" She paused.

"John? Have you not considered that this is your destiny?"

"You've been watching too many Star Wars films!"

She smiled wryly. "When we first met…" And that seemed so long ago now. "I believed that the Ancients had indeed returned to our world. Do you remember that? Not completely true at the time. But now… You know that I, too, possess a gift. I consider it a duty to use it for the benefit of others."

"Ouch! This isn't 'National-Lecture-to-John-Day', is it?"

She continued to smile, even though her message was firm and clear. "What powers you may possess, are not another identity. Merely a part of you that you carry inside. And belong with you as does the hand on your arm."

Shepto yelped and was on the mat again.

"That is enough for today, I think," said Teyla. And Shepto dutifully came over, picking up his towel and mopping his face and neck.

"One day, I will beat him!" he said, with youthful ambition.

"Sure," said Ronon, not convinced.

"He will truly grow to be a great Athosan warrior," said Teyla, her eyes alight with admiration and encouragement.

"You picking an heir, Teyla?" asked Sheppard, standing to take his turn against Ronon. He had his back to her and she didn't answer. He sensed that he might have hurt her feelings somehow. But then turned his attention to Ronon, who was circling him, eyeing him up in a… disconcerting manner.

"Hey, I've never fought an Ancient before," the big guy teased, apparently enjoying the anticipation of the challenge.

"Yeah, well, I'll try and be easy on you," said Sheppard doubtfully, already wincing and already on the defensive.

Ronon snorted his derision. And his onslaught was unremitting but Sheppard succeeded meeting blow against blow, for well, two whole minutes, before Ronon slammed a stick hard against his chest bringing him to his knees.

"I thought the idea of practice, was to actually _practice_, not to try and kill or maim one another!" grunted a winded Sheppard, holding an arm to his chest, supporting his body with a palm on the mat.

"Hey! It couldn't have hurt that much! I thought you were the one with Superpowers!" Ronon taunted.

Sheppard made a scoffing sound and went to push himself up off the floor.

_And then… he looked down… the pain slicing his chest and arms… "Oh God!"… a voice of faint horror… both hands reaching to… the spear… and the blood… that fast covered his hands… and life and breathe draining away…_

"John! John!" Teyla calling. Her voice distant and echoey. Peering down into his face. Shaking his shoulder gently.

"You ok?" Ronon too. Kneeling on the floor beside him. "You're not… having a heart attack or anything?"

Sheppard shook his head weakly and swallowed hard. "No. I'm fine. I think… I'll call it a day though." And he accepted Ronon's offer of a hand to get back on his feet. Staggering a step, once upright. So Ronon caught him. To prevent him falling again.

"Yes, that would be wise," agreed Teyla, "and I think also you should visit the Infirmary. You are looking very pale. I believe you have not yet fully recovered after all. Ronon should not have hit you so hard. He does not realise his own strength."

"No. Like I said, I'll be fine." Yeah, he'd be fine if he didn't feel so sick and faint. And he'd be finer still if he didn't have to share another guy's memories.

"I think I'll just go and… lay down for a bit."

Ronon nodded. "Sounds good. Want any help?"

He shook his head vaguely and limped to the door.

* * *

_He dozed. The coverings,__ pushed away, untidy at his feet. _

_For there was a heat in this room. That came stifling through the open window. A world that was not Atlantis.__ And a season that was full of fever._

_And the bed was vacant beside him. But Ha'ashme returned. Her slim figure an outline in the half-light._

"_There was no need to check on him," his voice said._

"_I know. __And I know that you have healed him… but I heard him cry out," she said._

"_Tomorrow, he will be running around with the others." He rose and knelt on the edge of the mattress, putting his arms around her waist. "We have three beautiful children. And they have a beautiful mother." He kissed her and pulled her down onto the bed._

He really _did_ have to stop doing that…

* * *

There was nothing for it. He was resolved. He was going to have to _demand _his job back. Yeah, it would be that easy… Chin lifted. Determined. He strode across the gangway. This time it was Rodney with Sam.

Rodney behind Sam, a hand on the desk and another on the back of chair, leaning over to look at data on Sam's laptop. And they both looked up. By the look in their eyes, they sensed something was wrong.

And his voice croaked as he tried to speak, so, well, they'd be right about that then. He coughed.

"Any chance of that word now?"

"Yes…Yes, of course. Rodney was just leaving."

And then the damn 'Gate activated. And the alarm made them all rush to the Control Room.

"Who is it?" asked Sam.

"I dunno. No IDC," said Chuck looking up. Rodney was at another monitor.

"It's the Aloran Gate again," he said. "Lorne's on base so it's not him… It has to be a malfunction!"

Sam touched her earpiece. "Security, to the 'Gate!" And marines quickly mustered, rifles at the ready.

"Right," she nodded to Chuck, "lower the Shields."

But the 'Gate had already whooshed. And a flash of light blinded them all. They held up their arms to protect their eyes. And the 'Gate shut down instantly.

"What the hell was that? That's some malfunction, Rodney!" An alarmed Sam.

Rodney was frantically stabbing at the keyboard.

'_John.'_

And Sheppard started.

Ha'ashme.

Not a memory this time.

'_Dammit! Not here!'_ He checked. Convinced that no one else appeared to see her.

"Rodney what happened?" demanded Sam. "We've never had anything like this before!"

"An energy spike of some sort! Like I said. A malfuntion. I'll have to run a full diagnostics. Give me half an hour and I'll have answers."

"You're satisfied nothing came through?" Ha'ashme had reached Sheppard's side. And he tried hard to remain impassive and not to look at her. Aware, however, that his face was flushing.

"You're not listening!" Rodney sang, waggling a finger at Sam. "Half of hour and I'll have answers!"

"Right, I'll leave you guys to it then," said Sheppard, beating a hasty retreat.

"I thought you wanted a word?" reminded Sam, frowning.

"Yeah, back in ten." And he heard her sigh, as she put the base on amber alert.

* * *

'_You can't keep coming through the Gate…_' They'd reached the transporter to Sheppard's quarters.

'_I do not wish it. It depletes my energy. But you were calling me.'_ Sheppard selected his destination. The doors closed and opened.

'_Yeah. I was calling you on Alora. I did a lot of calling Alora. And _now_ you appear…_' They reached his quarters and entered.

'_I was… occupied. But you have been calling me since.'_

'_So I've been told.'_ He was pacing the room. He knew he was being hard on her. But hell, she chose her moments. He had been about to clear things with Sam, for heaven's sake. But then she could read that… What did he do now anyway? Ask her to sit down? Pour her a drink?

She came closer and he backed away. Like he had on the beach.

'_No. This won't work…'_and he wished he had a dollar for every time he used that corny line. He even vaguely remembered using it on Chaya Say once. He'd soon be saying that she deserved someone better…

She was hurt and disappointed. And damn… those brown eyes…

'_I thought… you'd accepted Eliosus… on the beach…'_

'_You caught me… off guard.'_

'_I sense... different…'_ and she was frowning, going deeper. Searching. And no way was he ever gonna be able to shut _that_ out. And she found what she was seeking.

'_The longing of Eliosus remains with you, John. I see his memories. It is written into your very being. It will be with you for the rest of your days. And you see this as… a curse? Back on Epiquaaya, you experienced the whole of my love for Eliosus, and the whole of Eliosus' love for me. And it meant nothing to you? You still feel uncomfortable perhaps, that I am associated with Ascendeds?'_

'_Yeah, something like that,'_ conceded Sheppard softly, glad of a way out. Uncomfortable. Uncomfortable, too, with this degree of frankness and honesty.

'_When Eliosus and I were together, we were both in corporeal form. I can be anything that you want me to be.'_ And she moved closer again. He didn't resist.

'_Do you not find me attractive?'_ And she knew that he did.

'_You were with Chaya Say once?'_

'_Yeah, and it didn't work out.'_

'_And you were married?'_

'_Same again.'_

'_I cannot believe that you are like the men of the Mayan court who would use a woman once and then abandon her?'_

'_No. I hope I'm not either,'_ he said ever so softly, barely a whisper. And she was closer than ever, her body touching his. She would know that he breathed fast and heavy…

'_Then, kiss me, John, kiss me.'_ Her face looking up to his. He so wanted to. He so damn wanted to.

'_That's just it… I'm still John. And you're another guy's wife.'_ And his arms remained firmly at his sides.

* * *

Sam skim read Rodney's email.

'Preliminary Report. Drs. McKay, Lindberg and Chetley. On the Prevalence of Nq2 in the Pegasus Galaxy.'

She noted that the doctors weren't listed in alphabetical order.

'… Preliminary as not all data collated… subject to change… Chemical, physical and mineral analysis indicate importance and possible applications significantly increased beyond initial premise… some disparity with Nq (Naquadah) suggests dissimilar composition hence allocation of unique periodic coding, Nq2 (Naquadah/2)… infinite equations and diagrams… foresee considerable obstacles to extraction… limitations… possible difficulties in purification… highly volatile ore… water erosion… decline in quality… Summary… too soon to gauge at this point in time… any decision formulated must answer the question… exorbitant costs (not necessarily financial… infrastructure, human loss, etc. )… outweigh the advantages…'

The Gate kawhoosed again and she immediately tapped her headpiece.

"Rodney?"

"It's nothing, Sam… it's honestly nothing!..." And he broke off. "Look! I told you not to _do_ that! Sorry, Sam… wasn't talking to you… It has to be a glitch. It's probably to do the em fields on the other side."

She sighed. "Probably? Look, you want me to look into this?"

"No. No. There's really no need."

"But can we be certain it's safe to send a team through?" Lorne was due to go out later that morning.

"Yes, probably… Why do you keep doing that?!" yelled an exasperated Rodney. And Sam hoped he was talking to a computer and not one of the technicians. She glanced up to look through the glass. And saw Colonel Sheppard approaching.

"Probably?"

"No! No! No! You idiot!... No, it's fine."

"Ok, I'll leave it to you and call off security." By the time she'd done that, Sheppard was standing at the door looking pretty desperate.

Yeah. She'd let him stew long enough now.

"Look, I'm going crazy here! I need a mission." Ok, maybe he was being blunt. But he meant it. He shrugged. "Or something… I don't mind what… Guard duty… Hey, I'll even guard the s.d.u." The sea-water desalination unit. At the furthest point from the Control Tower and hence its facilities. Being sent there was considered by the Marines to be the lowest of the low. The equivalent to joining the French Foreign Legion. You went there to forget. Or were forgotten.

He entered the office and began pacing up and down. And then leaned with both hands on her desk.

"Just give me something! Don't-" He wanted to say punish me, because that's how it felt. And he shook his head, not actually saying anything.

"You'd better sit down," He took one of the easy chairs, casually laying one ankle to rest on one knee. Tapping the arm in a preoccipied way, trying to appear nonchalant. Which she knew he wasn't feeling. Sam proceeded to type, closing down Rodney's report and opening up another, talking as she did so.

"The last two missions… you've ended up in the Infirmary-"

"-You think I'm a liability? Hey, stuff happens." He shrugged again.

"I was thinking less of others… more of your of your own well-being." She completed her work, and without closing the laptop lid, stood and came round to the front of the desk, leaning against its top, folding her arms and facing Sheppard. She looked at him intently. He shifted in his chair, knowing he wasn't going to like what was coming.

"I'm not going to send you on a mission, John."

"No?" He was more disappointed than surprised.

"No. You haven't been entirely honest with me. We had a deal, right? You'd tell me everything and I'd consider, but only consider putting you back on active duty." That wasn't exactly how it'd happened. It'd been more of a yelling match that had sent medics scurrying for the exits.

"Yeah, so I told you about the white room and that's all I remember."

"Dr. Keller says it was exhaustion, not amnesia," she said dryly.

Sheppard pulled a face. "I still don't remember."

"Don't? Or won't?…John, you used the Obelisk to stop the storm."

"Like I said before, it was a coincidence. I had this… 'experience' in the white room and the storm just happened to… fizz out." He was looking at her so earnestly now. Evidently, he actually believed his story himself.

"When are you going to admit you've changed? When are you going to quit evading this issue? How can I possibly re-install a military commander who is in denial, who won't be truthful with himself, let alone me?" He didn't respond to any of the questions, as she knew he wouldn't. He sat forward now, frowning, fidgeting with his hands, tapping their fingertips together, staring at some point on the floor.

Sam leaned back a fraction to reach for her laptop and handed it over to him.

"I want you to look at these. Video inside the Temple. Not good pictures, granted. We found another inscription. This was partial. Scroll down, however. These were taken of the Obelisk on your first trip. And include an inscription previously overlooked. You see the red arrow?" Sheppard nodded as Sam pointed over the top of the screen. "This was so cryptic, lost in all that gothic sculpture, no one even understood what it was. Not until Daniel Jackson happened to have a second look. Further down, you'll see his translation, explaining the probable former use of the Obelisks; to control climactic conditions, the flora and fauna, and probably, if Radek has his way, a containment unit.

I say, former, as that's what Daniel assumed at the time of transcribing. However, during the storm, we were able to pick up seven life sign energy readings at all of the Lesser Obelisks. So we have to conclude this system is still fully operational." Sam fell silent, allowing Sheppard to read. Basically, eight Obelisks, including the one Great Obelisk. Eight Ancients. Each of them named, including Menos and Eliosus. Sheppard continued to stare at the screen long after he had finished reading.

"The point is, you see," continued Sam, "each Obelisk had its own appointed keeper. Only that keeper could or can operate his particular Obelisk. And all other Obelisks are powerless unless the Great Obelisk was activated. John, only Eliosus could ever operate the Great Obelisk. Only with the presence of Eliosus could the storm have been stopped."

He handed back her laptop, which she placed back on the desk. "There you go again with this 'I stopped the storm.' "

Sam was incredulous. "I don't believe you! What can I say to convince you?... Ok…The partial inscription in the Temple. This refers to Ha'ashme, Eliosus' wife, and their daughter. The daughter's name is lost. They replaced two of the Ancients though the explanation of that is also missing. You have heard of Ha'ashme before. In fact, I think you have more than heard of her. When Teyla visited you in the Infirmary, and you hadn't fully come round, you mistook Teyla for Ha'ashme and called her by Ha'ashme's name."

"Ha'ashme?" Sheppard licked at his lips pensively.

"Yes. So you see, I'm not buying all this 'I can't remember stuff'. You went off for a walk. You were next seen at the Obelisk, witnessed disappearing into this... this 'white room.' Something significant happened in between. If you open up, I'll re-assign you. If not, I can only believe you have been compromised…" She trailed off and shrugged.

"That sounds like blackmail."

"Yes, it does, doesn't it? But I've been protecting you from the IOA. I've been trying my hardest to keep this all quiet from the rest of the base. The least you can do is to trust me."

"I met Menos. I met Ha'ashme. They told me the story of Eliosus. It's that simple. Most of the time I was battling against the storm. Hoping to save you three incidentally."

"Why? It appeared you were in more danger than us."

"I wasn't to know that."

"We were closest to the Jumper."

"Yeah. You were." Something had just dawned on Sheppard.

"You were told by Menos or Ha'ashme that we needed saving, and you could use the Obelisk?"

"Yeah. Something like that. They said I could help."

"They used us as an excuse to get you to the Obelisk."

"It's looking that way," he admitted feebly.

"So you _did_ use the controls you saw in the white room?"

"Yeah. I guess."

"How did you know what to do?"

"I don't know. It was like sitting in the Chair or getting in the Jumper for the first time. It just happened."

"Except with one difference. You used the Chair and the Jumpers as John Sheppard. The Obelisk recognised you as Eliosus."

Sheppard looked at her unhappily.

"Tell me about Eliosus."

"You know, this is starting to sound like an interrogation?"

"If you'd been more forthright at the start, I wouldn't have to wheedle it out of you."

Sheppard told her Eliosus' story. Hardly looking up. Still fidgeting with his fingers. She felt he was missing out massive chunks, especially anything concerning the relationship with Ha'ashme. And many of the details of Eliosus, she knew already. But even this was better than lacking any of the information of half an hour ago.

"There. That wasn't so bad," she said when he'd finished, returning to her side of the desk.

"No. Not for you." She knew his problem. Having to admit to dealing with ethereal beings. And then the thought occurred to her...

"You 'shared' with her, didn't you?"

He looked up sharply, eyes narrowing.

Sam hastened to assure him. "None of this is going beyond the four walls of this room."

"You know about…?"

She believed she even detected some blushing. "Sharing? Yeah, got the tee shirt." He looked at her, questioning. "An ascended called Orlin," she explained.

"Yeah. I remember the Mission Report now…"

"And it's like your's… half is missing. There are some things you just don't tell."

He nodded with a lift of his chin, understanding. "Chaya Say too… though…"

"Ha'ashme meant something more?" she provided.

"You're sounding like a shrink," he said hoarsely. Eyes averted, a pretence of looking at one end of the desk. Anything rather than look directly at her. She'd struck a nerve.

A quick change of subject. "Actually you have a lot to thank Orlin for."

He didn't reply. He seemed preoccupied. She wondered if he'd even heard her.

"I tried protecting him… from the powers that be… he would have been a lab rat too… so I know how you felt… and…" it was now her turn to find it difficult to open up, "I guess that's why I'm prepared to go all out to help you too."

He merely nodded his thanks. Swallowed hard. Looking down at his hands again.

A few moments and he cleared his throat. "Ha' ashme, you know, isn't ascended. I don't know what she is exactly… somewhere in between… I guess that's where I am… somewhere in between." He sounded nearly bitter. And stood up suddenly and faced the glass to the Control Room, wiping a hand across his face. He was pretty choked up.

"I didn't want any of this, Sam. I just want to be normal. Plain ordinary John Sheppard... So, do I get to go?" he asked.

"Go?"

"On a mission. I can be plain ordinary John Sheppard on a mission. We had a deal right?"

"Right… This is difficult…You were influenced by Ha'ashme and Menos."

"So you _do _think I've been compromised. So what was the point of this little talk?" He placed his hands on his hips, exasperated. "I told you. I only want to be John Sheppard. All that with Ha'ashme and Menos is never ever going to happen again. I have no intention of returning to Alora, even if... even if you wanted me to."

"But what about Eliosus? Who's to say you won't at some point assume his identity, or he takes over wherever you are?"

Sheppard was shaking his head vigorously. "There's no problem. That won't happen." _I am not going to be Eliosus. I am not going to lose who I am._

"You have his DNA. And even if you won't face up to the fact, his powers are obviously rekindling inside you. The dilemma is, that if they do, it might not be altogether a bad thing. I'm pulled in two directions here." She paused. Sheppard was looking at her attentively.

"Ok," she relented. "Please don't give me cause to regret my decision. It's light duties only. You go with Lorne."

"Go. With. Lorne?" He screwed his face up in disbelief.

"Yes. Go with. Accompany. Assist. Observe."

"Or be observed. Why do I get the impression I'm to have a babysitter _again_? What happened to all this talk about trust?"

"Beggars can't be choosers."

"But with Lorne? You know the guy has threatened me."

Sam threw him a 'you're-a-big-boy-now-deal-with-it' look. "It'll give you a chance to build bridges." Sheppard wondered what course on leadership skills Sam had picked that up from before she came to Atlantis.

Sam went on to explain. "It's the last mission to assess a planet for Nq2. Lorne has now led every one of them. It'd hardly be fair to pull him out now."

"So... he's one hundred per cent in charge?" Sam's tone had been so apologetic, it was not difficult to guess what her answer would be.

"Yes." She busied herself with her laptop again, deliberately avoiding his disappointment.

"Hey! You might as well demote me now and get it over with! Or how about a transfer back to the Antarctic?" She dismissed his remark with a wave of her hand. "It won't come to that. I just need one straight mission from you. Without incident. You'll be part of a full security contingent. Lorne has already completed a routine fly pass. And its looking like this largest of the planets is actually inhabited." She offered a conciliatory crumb of comfort. "He may need a negotiator."

"Right. And that's me. I hate negotiating."

"And I need a second opinion. Lorne has already expressed concern that the asteroid field makes this area too unstable to entertain any thoughts of getting mining expeditions safely up and running."

A white coated lab. technician carrying a data pad came to the door and hesitated. Sam looked up to her.

"Simons. Yes. I did promise her a meeting." Sheppard took the hint and made to leave.

"And Colonel? Try and come back in one piece this time."


	9. Chapter 9

_Ancient(y) Proverb: There are more dangers in the Universe than the anger of one man and a puddle of lava._

_Oh, and another..._

_Old(ish) English Proverb: Many reviews maketh a happy author but cliffhangers make happier readers..._

The following chapters take place over a period of 24 hours. Ber dum... ber dum... ber dum...

* * *

Chapter Nine

"Huh, you can cut the proverbial atmosphere with the proverbial knife," muttered Rodney quietly as he and Radek readied Jumper Two for flight, checking various panels and instruments in the cockpit.

"This is true," said Radek, with a low whisper, nodding in rare agreement . He had no wish to be overheard by the four Marines who were filing in and stashing away kit in the overhead compartments, taking their places on the benches in the rear. The geophysicist, Dr. Chetley, and Shepto, were already seated.

"This is not going to be a happy outing," he added. "But then, none of them have been. Major Lorne's mood has been so black. I am glad this is the last trip."

They both glanced anxiously through the windscreen. Sheppard had his back to them, leaning against the Jumper. Rodney wondered if his casual pose was meant to be deliberately provocative. It looked like it was working. Major Lorne was pacing up and down, and yes, his mood was black.

Rodney knew that Sheppard was far from happy with this arrangement. Another babysitter mission, he had called it. And had assumed Lorne was his babysitter. But it was actually Teyla, Ronon and Rodney that Sam had asked to keep an eye out for him. Teyla and Ronon she could rely on, without question. But Rodney she had singled out for a special word. "As regards John… Whatever happens, you'll promise me, don't be negative, don't be sceptical. Science can't explain everything… you're gonna have to be open-minded, receptive to anything new you might encounter as much as John is… and as a friend, he's going to need that sort of support and understanding." "Yes. Yes. Whatever." Anything to get rid of her. He was busy. "Rodney!" "What?!" "I'm trying to be serious here!" And he looked up, blinking at her. And her words caught up with him. And sank in. And it was only Sam he'd allow to point out his failings without the sarcastic backlash. Even if he knew them already. And 'friend,'after all, had been the key word.

"Where the hell are they? My men are already on board," complained Lorne.

"They'll be here." Sheppard casually pushed himself off the front of the Jumper.

"At least, they are talking now," said Radek under his breath, peering up over the top of his glasses.

"Two minutes. If they're not here then, we're going without them," warned Lorne.

"Whatever you say. You're the boss." Way too flippantly apparently.

Lorne pushed into Sheppard, pinning him back up against the Jumper, spitting out his words.

"Let's get this straight, Colonel! I did not ask for you to be here! Don't. Mess. With Me!"

Sheppard, equally aggressively, thrust him back. "And you're way out of line, _Major_!" Sheppard emphasized the word, Major. Lorne might be in charge, but Sheppard was damned sure going to remind him who had the senior rank. The two glared at each other, faces inches apart.

"Whoa!" said Rodney, from his vantage point in the Jumper. "This is not looking good!"

Teyla and Ronon appeared at last, and Lorne stormed off to enter the Jumper. Both Teyla and Ronon gave Sheppard wary looks.

"You're late," said Sheppard accusingly. Now _his _mood was black. Sheppard watched Teyla walk hurriedly by to follow Lorne, leaving Ronon to make their excuses.

"Teyla wasn't feeling well."

"Again?! Why is she coming then?"

"As soon as she heard there were people on this planet…" he shrugged. "News of the Athosans."

Sheppard rolled his eyes. "I do not _need _this!" The two men hastened to join the others on board. Ronon flung himself down in an empty space among the Marines. Sheppard shuffled past Radek who, always the gentleman, was making his way to the back after offering his seat to Teyla, treading on everyone's feet en route.

"Yes. Excuse me, please, Colonel. Oh sorry! Yes. Excuse me." The Czech's nervousness a direct result of witnessing the near-scrap outside. He was actually relieved _not_ to sit in the cockpit.

At the bulkhead, Sheppard stopped. Briefly taken aback.

Lorne sat in the co-pilot's seat leaving that of the pilot's vacant for him. This was something Sheppard hadn't been expecting. He glanced at Rodney sitting behind Lorne. And Rodney, in turn, gave Sheppard a suffering sympathetic look. This suddenly had all the feel of his first flying test. Sheppard took a deep breath and went forward, nodding to Teyla as he passed. She visibly relaxed, relieved she'd managed to avoid a lecture. For now, anyway.

Once seated, he flicked the switch for the hatch and ran through the start up procedures, breaking the awkward silence with a question.

"Ok. Anyone care to run down the asteroid situation?"

"It's bad," said Rodney gloomily. So Lorne was out to trip him up. The Jumper's engines started to hum.

"Care to quantify that?" asked Sheppard, trying to sound indifferent, as he manoeuvred the Jumper out of the bay, down to the 'Gate room.

"They're difficult to forecast but-" began Rodney.

"-On the last mission, there was an increased build up. You have a problem with that?" interrupted Lorne bluntly.

"Just dial the 'Gate." Now, Sheppard was really… irritated.

* * *

He gave Lorne a good ride.

The HUD was going crazy trying to keep up with the red warnings in real time. He knew that on at least two occasions, he had deliberately aimed the Jumper straight at an asteroid, in order to avoid it at the last possible moment. He didn't really care. He could hear Rodney's wincing and drawing in of breath every time a sharp turn was called for. Lorne remained inscrutable throughout, though Sheppard was pretty damned sure he struggled to do so. Once, after a succession of twists and rolls, he heard one of the marines, new to the Jumpers, ask if they'd just flown upside down.

"You can't fly upside down. There is no upside down. Its space stupid!" came a reply from a fellow marine.

"Well, it felt like upside down."

"You can't actually_ feel_ upside down. Or anything. Inertial dampeners, you know" was Radek's good-humoured explanation, though he might have sworn at the soldier in Czech for all it meant to him.

Sheppard inwardly admitted that he was perversely enjoying this. It was great to be flying again. There seemed to be nothing he could do wrong. The controls of Jumper Two, Lorne's usual jumper, were responding well, even though probably more used to Lorne's thought patterns. He wondered briefly if he were drawing on any of his Ancient DNA and that was making this a whole lot easier. And instantly rejected the idea. Sure he was in denial. Sam had said so. But he was happy just being plain, ordinary John Sheppard. With no complications. Though with Lorne beside him… Well, a few minor complications…

They passed through the asteroid field and the planet, M12 23D loomed large ahead of them, lost in a complete cover of swirling white cloud. The other planets of the Aloran Group in close proximity, grey or brown, austere in comparison to the visible glittering sapphire of Epiquaaya set in solitude, thousands of kilometres away…

Breaking orbit and heading for their coordinates, they entered the planet's atmosphere, the cloud enveloping them as thick fog.

It had been going too well.

A loud crack.

From the rear right hand side of the Jumper.

"What the-?"

The craft suddenly lurched to the right. Everyone looking wide-eyed and alarmed. Grabbing hold of anything close at hand for support.

"Keep it level! Keep it level!" yelled Lorne, tetchily.

"What do you think I'm doing?!" from Sheppard equally tetchily. Thinking alone wasn't enough and he had a strong grip on the handheld controls.

The HUD showed its new warning.

"Starboard engine's down!" And judging from the loud whine from the port side engine, it was struggling to keep the Jumper airborne on its own.

"Rodney, what just happened?" Rodney was out of his seat and urgently half-pulling, half-beckoning Lorne out of his.

"I'm on it!"

"Keep the nose up! You're going in too steep!" Sheppard didn't bother with a reply to Lorne.

"We were hit by something? There's no craft nearby!" joined in Teyla.

"Sounded like small arms fire. But we're too far up for that. And…we had no warning." Sheppard spoke with effort. The Jumper was still leaning too sharply to the right and needed all his concentration.

"Most probably a meteoroid. Small as a bullet. Wouldn't register on the HUD." Rodney was tapping what seemed like every conceivable button furiously. "Gone straight through the power drive! The chances of that…." he shook his head in disbelief. "I can't even access auxiliary lines…"

"Crap," said Sheppard. It also meant the inertial dampeners probably wouldn't be working either. "Right. Landing with one engine, everyone. Hold on tight!"

It was worse than that even. Visibility was practically nil. The Jumper was losing height fast and fog smoked around them thick and dense. It was only marginally better than the day he flew the Wraith dart, a craft with no windscreen. Sheppard was forced to rely on visuals from the HUD alone to tell him of any obstacles that lay ahead.

Including the ground.

The number of metres to landing counted down too rapidly as he failed to get the Jumper's nose up.

He flicked a switch. "Ok. Now the starboard pod won't retract. We're gonna hit-"

The ground.

Hard.

With a powerful thud, the Jumper landed clumsily, ploughing the earth before it, veering round to the port side before coming to a standstill in the bank of soil thrown up at the front. The impact had whipped the controls out of Sheppard's hands and sent everyone flying forward.

Slowly, when they were sure it was safe to do so, all those in the back gingerly picked themselves up from the floor, rubbing bruises and helping each other. Lorne and Teyla wedged between the bulkhead and the front seats had managed to remain seated and were unscathed.

"Everyone in the rear, ok?" bawled Lorne. There were a few feeble "Yes, sirs." as replies.

No great harm done then.

Both Rodney and Sheppard thrown against the dash, eased back into their seats.

Rodney put up a hand.

"Here, I'm ok too," he said in a squeaky voice, knowing well enough that Lorne hadn't been asking him. "What about you, Sheppard? You ok?" Rodney asked. Still winded, Sheppard merely nodded. "Not one of your better landings, I think." Rodney added, massaging an arm.

"Should have flown the thing myself," complained Lorne as he went to see to his men.

"Yeah, whatever," Sheppard threw after him.

"That man is no longer very… nice," confided Teyla in a low voice.

"It'd be good to have the hatch open!" shouted Lorne sarcastically from the back, confirming Teyla's low opinion of him. Sheppard obliged, by pressing the button. The cold murky atmosphere of outside quickly filled the Jumper as the Marines began to disembark.

"I guess we'd better assess the damage," muttered Rodney, fiddling with some controls. Sheppard stood and waited with Teyla at the bulkhead, exchanging looks with Ronon as he followed the Marines out.

Lorne positioned at the hatch, barked out more orders to the front as Dr. Chetley quickly scuttled past him.

"Dr. McKay!"

"Yes!" snapped back Rodney.

"You stay here and fix the Jumper!"

"Am doing! Radek-"

"-Radek's coming with us."

"I am?" asked a dismayed Czech.

"But it'll need the two of us to carry out repairs!" protested Rodney. "That is, if you want a return trip in the next week or so."

"Just do as the man says," said Sheppard quietly.

"The Colonel can stay and assist." Sheppard merely nodded. It's what he anticipated. Lorne was obviously dishing out what he thought were menial tasks to Team Sheppard. But McKay and the Jumper needed a guard anyhow and it might as well be him. Let the guy have his moment and get it out of his system.

"Shepto stay here. Teyla?" Well, he was certain that Teyla and Ronon were in for a real fun day. And Shepto couldn't hide his disappointment that he wasn't going with his fellow Athosan. She nodded to Sheppard and left. Radek was still gathering up his gear and was the last to leave, casting the three remaining the unhappiest of looks as he passed out the hatch. They could hear Lorne still giving out orders to his company as they disappeared into the thick mist.

"Can I remind you all that radios are probably useless here. So no getting separated or lost."

Quiet in the Jumper for a moment.

"Why are you putting up with this?" asked Rodney. "I doubt very much if he even knows where he is exactly."

Actually, despite the crash landing, they weren't far from their designated landing co-ordinates.

"I'm not putting up with anything. I'm building bridges," replied Sheppard sagely.

"You are?" blinked Rodney, uncomprehending.

"Oh yes." And who was he kidding? It needed two sides of a river to build a bridge.

* * *

The fog lifted with the approach of M12 23D's midday. A gloom hung in the air still as a grey drizzle. Sheppard had by far the best position. In the pilot's seat. Comfortably curled up with his legs crossed up on the dash, he only occasionally had to open an eye or lift a hand whenever instructed by Rodney.

Rodney. "Is it working now?"

Sheppard. "Nope."

Rodney. "Are you sure?"

Sheppard. "Yeah."

Rodney. "Are you sure you're really looking?"

Sheppard. "Yeah!" And a pretence at indignation.

And Rodney would go back to poking in a compartment of crystals or pulling at some conduit wires in the rear of the Jumper. It was cold there as he needed the hatch open to speak with Shepto, outside, shivering, damp and miserable near the starboard drive pod.

Rodney. "Is it working now?"

Shepto."I don't think so, Sir."

Rodney. "What do you mean, you don't think so? Is it moving or not?"

Shepto. "I don't think so, Sir."

"Have I got to come out there and look myself? Why am I always surrounded by idiots!" And Rodney would disappear outside and reappear again, gradually becoming as wet as Shepto.

And then once, Shepto called, "Hey, Doc., its moving! You're a genius! It's moving!" And the noise woke Sheppard with a start. That and the hard poke Rodney gave him.

"You can try the engines now, Rip van Winkle."

Wearily, Sheppard sat upright, and tried powering up. The engines fired to life immediately.

"Dr. McKay's a real genius!" beamed Shepto from the hatch.

"See! Someone appreciates me!"

"Oh, well done, Rodney," said Sheppard dryly, as he turned off the engines again. "Double quick time too. I thought you said it'd take a week."

"As the man said," and Rodney pointed to Shepto with both hands, "I'm a genius!"

"Quiet! We've got company!" warned Sheppard suddenly, spotting two grey figures in the mist approaching the Jumper. Shepto's P90 being prepped the only sound heard in the tense silence.

Teyla and Ronon.

"Back so soon, huh?" said Rodney rather too cheerily considering the pair's long expressions. Sheppard turned sideways in the pilot's seat to face the two as they filed past Shepto and Rodney into the cockpit. Ronon flopped down in a vacant seat.

"Well?" prompted Sheppard impatiently when both seemed a little reticent to explain themselves.

"The man's a jerk!" blurted out Ronon. It was an Earth word and he liked it. He liked other Earth words a lot more and he figured they were a lot more applicable to Lorne at the present. But Teyla was there. And scowling enough at him already, without him incurring more of her reproach.

"Huh, if you're referring to Lorne, tell us something we don't know!" voiced Rodney.

Teyla wearily sat behind Sheppard. The moisture in her hair and on the all-wrapping jacket she took to wearing nowadays, glinting in the Jumper's interior lights.

"You know that the intention of this mission is to investigate the suspected Nq2 seam Dr. Chetley discovered during their fly past the last time they were here. Also detected were half a dozen settlements in close proximity. We came to one such settlement, a small town, roughly one mile north of here, lying half a mile west of the seam," explained Teyla.

"Lorne sent Teyla and me in there to suss them out. He figured the sight of soldiers might alarm them. And it might alert them to the true value of the ore. The townsfolk might get greedy if it came to negotiations," said Ronon.

Sheppard pulled a face. "Yeah. All of those things are true. I might have figured the same." What was Ronon's problem then?

" 'Cept you would've listened to what we had to tell you."

Teyla continued. "The town was simple. Wooden houses. Some of the townsfolk we met, informed us that the ore had been mined for fuel many years ago but underwater streams made the mine shafts unstable. After one collapse, when many townsfolk lost their lives, they were abandoned."

"Its whitewash," asserted Ronon.

"It is Ronon's belief that some of the townsfolk were not entirely honest with us. That mining is still being carried out. Their reactions to our questions were variable. Not all were open."

"They did not want us snooping around, asking questions."

"We saw a few with clothing soiled with blue dust. And their hands were calloused. Which only comes with weeks of hard labour."

"And some of their roads? Too many deep cart tracks. They've been used for something more than harvest food."

"We caught up with Major Lorne and his men to report to him. They had already reached a cave, the site of the seam apparently, and were about to enter. Dr. Chetley and Dr. Zelenka were expressing deep concerns as to the safety of this particular cave. They'd already reached the conclusion that it formed the entrance to the former mine and the rocks were showing signs of decay… due to water erosion?" Teyla was unsure of the correct terminology. "So, it would appear that this was the mine that the town had abandoned but they may have since been extracting elsewhere," suggested Teyla.

"There were timbers shoring up the sides and they'd rotted away," confirmed Ronon.

"Therefore Major Lorne should not have entered this cave. And certainly, he should have started negotiation procedures with the townspeople as instructed by Colonel Carter. He has made his decision inadvisedly. But… he would not listen to us."

"Like I said, the man's a jerk."

"I feel we are… how do you say it… tarred with the same brush as you, John."

"You must have had one _big_ argument at this place," commiserated Rodney.

"So then what… you just left?" asked Sheppard, a little incredulously.

"Yeah," shrugged Ronon. "What did you expect us to do? He ordered us to guard the cave entrance." Even now, after two years, the Satedan could not be trusted to follow the chain of command.

"You left your post?! Teyla?" Sheppard was on his feet, slightly angered, standing between the two of them. Each looking at him with some concern, neither had expected this sort of reaction.

"The Major did substitute two marines," she tried to assure him.

"Oh, and that makes it alright! Great! So now the Major is stretched thin. You do _not _leave your post! Ever! You understand!" He walked up the Jumper a couple of paces, rubbing his jaw, and strode back again, slamming the bulkhead with his hand, causing Teyla to flinch.

"And you know what else you've done?!" Sheppard pointed his forefinger into Ronon's face to emphasize his every word. "You've just played straight into Lorne's hands. This isn't about the townspeople! This isn't about the mine! This is about getting back at me! He was goading you. You've just handed Lorne an excuse to get your ass kicked off Atlantis!"

"That wouldn't happen," though Ronon looked doubtful.

"Don't bet on it!" And Sheppard walked off again, hitting the wall again. He sat in the back, folding his arms in exasperation. Yeah, he was angry with Ronon. He was way over the top too angry with Ronon. More than the situation demanded, he knew. Perhaps angry with himself too. He should have seen something like this coming. Should have warned Ronon and Teyla.

He was also frustrated. Somehow, he'd just got to get this Lorne thing sorted. It'd gone on long enough. He wiped a hand across his face. But honestly he didn't know how… damn, if it'd helped he'd take the guy out to a pier, somewhere private, and let the Major beat the hell out of him. If it helped… It had nearly come to that in front of the Jumper, hadn't it? And yeah, Eliosus… what was the point of having so-called powers and still couldn't get through to Lorne?

Teyla was speaking to Ronon. "It is what he threatened, Ronon. If I did not persuade you to return. He said he would put you on report and it would not look good before an IOA review board. You know that reviews are coming up shortly." Teyla was very nearly repeating the Major's exact words. Though with a more sympathetic tone. There followed an uncomfortable silence. Ronon, shuffled in his seat, crossing his legs at the ankles and studied his boots and the hem of his coat penitently. Everyone was grateful when the forgotten Shepto spoke up, believing things had simmered down enough and it was safe to do so. He still swallowed hard before daring to broach the subject and cast Colonel Sheppard a wary glance.

"Teyla? There was no news of the Athosans?"

She shook her head.

"I'm sorry," offered Rodney.

With effort, Teyla put on a brave face. "Thank you. But truthfully, I was not expecting news. As you have already informed us that very few outsiders would have reached this planet."

"Hmm! It's a wonder it was populated at all," sniffed Rodney.

"Yet the townsfolk did not seem surprised by our presence. And this is something else that we wished to convey to Major Lorne but he would not listen. This is the other reason why we felt a need to return here and report to you." She glanced towards Sheppard with an expression that suggested she believed his former tirade was unjustified. "The townsfolk believed that we were either from another settlement or that we were, what they referred to as… nannoids."

Something clicked inside Sheppard's head. Something as simple as two and two make four. And Rodney was doing the math too. And Teyla and Ronon apparently had already gotten there…

Sheppard was immediately on his feet and back in the cockpit.

"Huh, and it is no stretch of the imagination to link that with-" began Rodney.

"Nannites!" finished Sheppard.

"And follow that through to its natural conclusion?" enquired Rodney.

"Replicators!" supplied Ronon, nodding.

"Replicators here? Why didn't we pick them up on the sensors?" asked Sheppard.

"A little pre-occupied with a crash landing, at the time, I seem to recall, " explained Rodney. "My guess is they're the ones here to mine the Nq2 though why, when their technology is neutronium based."

"They wouldn't have a base here, would they? It too far off the beaten track to be of any use to them." Sheppard was thinking out loud. "Ok. Lorne has to be warned. We can't have him wandering all over the place risking running into these guys. Ronon take Shepto. Get back to that cave, find the Major, and you damn well make sure he listens this time."

"I can hit him?" smirked the Satedan.

"Yeah... No!" Though at first, it had seemed like a good idea. "Rodney, you're with me. We'll do a recon of the village and see what we can find and then join up with Ronon. Lorne has probably had too much of a head start. Teyla, stay here and… get some rest." Since she had arrived she hadn't been able to conceal how weary she was feeling after the three mile hike. "Rodney's fixed the Jumper, so you can keep it cloaked."

Teyla reached into a jacket pocket, pulling out a small drawstring pouch and offered it to Sheppard.

"You might find this useful. Minarian coinage. It is not unlike your gold and is quite acceptable to loosen tongues. The inn, we found, was the best source of information." Sheppard allowed the pouch to fall into his open palm.

"You have… money?" He raised a quizzical eyebrow but did not ask how she came by it.

"I find it is a necessity these days," she sighed. "I am glad that you are not taking Shepto. The inn is… a house of ill-repute."

"It is?" asked Rodney expectantly, with an obvious glint in his eye. He might as well have been rubbing his hands together. Sheppard and Teyla glowered at him. This was neither the time nor place.

Rodney, coughed, lowered his voice and promptly revised his question.

"It is?" he enquired innocently.

* * *

This was one awful mistake.

But they had a job to do and he was damn sure he was going to be the one to see it finished to the end.

A memory butted in.

The clean bright light of Colonel Carter's office. "I'm afraid this will cloud your judgement." "I can assure you, ma'am, it won't." "Good to hear it." How could he do that? How could he make that sort of promise? And then find himself here? Leading guys into this?

One awful damn mistake.

More recall.

That Med. Evac. on MT9 143. Calm. Efficient. Professional. Impassive. They could guess the malicious side of him had felt vindicated. But he hadn't let it interfere. Oddly, he knew he had softened. The soldier side of him. What should have been the hard side, softened. It'd happened in spite of himself. Sorta seeped in. Comrades in arms. You can never ignore that bond. It goes deep. You can never forget that bond, no matter how…

Hell. That was no way to go. Not after all this time on Atlantis. The Colonel strapped to a backboard. On the Jumper floor. Defibrillator ready. The sharp breaths. That stopped. Teyla calling. "John, please!" "AR, guys!" He'd shouted. But his Marines were good and already on it.

And then the guy was walking around and they said his injuries weren't as bad as first thought. But Lorne's brother…

And all the hatred came flooding back.

But still he kept it under wraps. It was never going to affect the way he did his job.

Until Sheppard stepped into his Jumper again...

The blackness of the cave. Cut by flashlight and rifle beam. A light drizzle outside. But it must have rained earlier. A constant drip. Echoing. And echoing. And in places, small thin streams of oily water snaked down the walls and onto the base of the cave. Providing sustenance for lurid blue fungi with their crimson cobweb tendrils, draping, salivating slime. And strange white slug-like creatures, the size of a man's hand that sucked on the detritus on the floor.

Into the old mine proper. Flaking, splintery timber shafts. Smell of rot and decay. Piles here and there of rock and earth. Slippage from the walls.

The scientists stopped from time to time to take samples. With zero optimism.

Once. Radek slipped and fell. The two marines helped him to his feet. Footsteps grinding on loose rock. And echoing. And other noises they couldn't place. Creaking. Sometimes metallic clanking. Mind tricks.

The floor, a slight decline became a slope. Myriads of tunnels splintered off left and right. Once, the main tunnel itself, forked. Then again and again. They marked the walls to remember the way back.

They still felt lost.

"Perhaps if we'd gone to the town and hired a guide…" muttered Dr. Chetley. The sole occasion any one dared complain. Lorne sensed they wanted to. He sensed their criticism every time he pushed them on. Even the two marines. They'd all heard Teyla and Ronon. But he was going to get this job done without their opinion. Without the interference of Sheppard's Team.

A black chasm suddenly opened before them. A vertical shaft. And they eased themselves and equipment along a half metre wide ledge. A kicked stone heard to hit water forty seconds later.

The routine of taking samples. Second nature now. But with pessimism and a sense of uselessness. Radek held a flashlight for Dr. Chetley, their faces shadowed and spectral. The walls slimed and glistened, ultramarine and white from mineral deposits. The marines and Lorne held a boundary around them of fainter P90 lights. The whine of the geophysicist's drill screamed off into the blackness of the tunnel. Earth trickled down at that spot. Under the geophysicist's collar. He shook himself, cursing. His voice echoing.

And echoing.

More earth tumbled down.

They froze. Silent. With bated breathe. Afraid for the expected avalanche. Flashing their lights upwards. Though nothing to be seen except void.

"It's too unstable, Major. We should go back. This is not what we're looking for. Nothing here is viable to mine. Rock needs to be harder in nature. Less permeable. Too much water erosion. Insufficient quantities too."

"No. We'll press on further." Tight lipped. Lorne could sense their opposition. Their challenge to his authority,

Echoing. Echoing in the dark.

This was a mistake.

This was all Sheppard's fault.

And then... the roof caved in...


	10. Chapter 10

_Thanks reviewers! We're sorta at the half way mark now, so, a pat on the back for being so dedicated, to reviewers and readers alike._

_The next chapter, incidentally, is my favourite... so be nice..._

* * *

Chapter Ten

It was raining hard.

"I'm cold… and wet… And…did I say… I was hungry?" He was certainly flagging, taking deep breaths into his jacket collar that he held tight over his chin. An ineffectual effort against the downpour.

But at least it muffled his whining.

"Yeah." Sheppard glanced at his watch, though it was difficult to see it while they were on the move. He fabricated an answer though it probably wasn't far from the truth. "Exactly one minute and thirty four seconds ago, when you ate the last of our power bars."

"You remember?" Sheppard shook his head, as if to say, 'do I just!'

"You see, I don't," sniffed Rodney miserably, wiping away the water dripping from the end of his nose. "The approach of… a hypoglycemic… attack…Things sort of… sort of go all fuzzy… round the edges."

Sheppard rolled his eyes. He had heard it all before.

Rodney stopped suddenly, bent over and rested his hands on his knees, drawing in gasps of air. Sheppard came to a halt too. Impatient. Rodney then stood, grimacing, rubbing a stitch in his side.

"And…you're going way…way too…fast." Sheppard _had_ been maintaining a steady pace. Nearly a jog, in fact. He believed it essential. They had little idea how much ground they needed to cover before they went on to help Ronon locate Lorne. If all went according to plan, Sheppard aimed to have all the answers to the Replicator situation on M12 23D and be away from the planet by nightfall.

And who wanted to be out in this weather longer than necessary? 'I hate rain,' he thought, adding it to his hate list of clowns, iratus bugs and Wraith Queens. It might have been something to do with the storm on Alora…

He grabbed Rodney's arm and pushed him forward, irritably. And then softened with some words of encouragement.

"If we make good time, I might treat you to a meal. Call it a late birthday gift." Even Marines, he found, sometimes needed the carrot and not the stick.

"Oh right, Mr. Generous, and that would be with _Teyla's_ money? And my birthday was, like, seven months ago! And it hasn't gone unnoticed - your use of keywords - if and might!"

Well, not much of a concession then, but it was still enough to buy Rodney, who proceeded to slog on, following Sheppard's faster pace setting.

The rain thankfully began to ease. Though the going underfoot didn't improve. They were in open meadows, and the long grass, waterlogged and bent double, snagged at their legs. A bluish peaty mud underneath squelched and sucked at their boots. Ahead, in a thickening mist, the dim outlines of the town could be seen. At its outskirts, Sheppard waited for Rodney to catch up, taking cover behind a large tree. If there were Replicators here, he obviously didn't wish to be spotted.

From his vantage point, he had a complete view of the way ahead. Teyla had called it a town but from here it seemed little more than an encampment, with log style cabin buildings lining a dull blue shingled road. Some were open-fronted, serving as shops and stalls, lit by lamps, filled, probably with some kind of oil. They illuminated little of the grey outside, but were cosy and inviting all the same. And obviously attracting many customers as the street was a confusion of noise and business. Street traders with covered hand-drawn carts, called and advertised their wares. Pots. Apples. Lengths of cloth. Dogs barked and goats bleated where milk was offered for sale. Jugglers and musicians performed. Children ran loose, laughing and playing. Chickens clucked and pecked aimlessly here and there, or were caged ready for an evening meal. An aroma of something similar to roasted chestnuts permeated the air, mixing with that of freshly baked bread.

"Hmm! That smell, tell me I haven't just died and gone to Heaven!" Rodney had at long last joined Sheppard. He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply, relishing every last atom and molecule of scent.

"Hang in there, Rodney. The inn's about twenty doors down." He'd spotted a sign of two flagons of frothing ale hanging over the front of one of the buildings. "We'll go along the back."

Keeping low and skirting gardens and outbuildings, they were still able to catch glimpses of the street through the many side passages. There were no signs of any Replicators. Unless they'd taken to wearing the same garments as the local folk. These seemed oblivious to the weather, protected by heavy woollen great coats and hats. Both female and male alike. Perhaps then, it rained here everyday. Some were stained with the blue clay exactly as Teyla had described. There were even beggars to be seen, but most locals were smartly dressed, out trading or enjoying a day's outing.

"They're not exactly your typical down trodden masses, are they?" observed Rodney on the one occasion he managed to keep up with Sheppard. Sheppard agreed. If Replicators were here, and were mining, they weren't using the local populace as slave labour.

They arrived at the rear of the inn and edged along the alley at the side, peering into a couple of windows on the way before reaching the street. Sheppard checked up and down, searching faces in the crowd, while Rodney hid at his back. It was more force of habit than cowardice. In tight situations, Ronon was always telling him: "if you wanna stay alive, stay behind me." Always seemed like good advice.

"What do you think?" he whispered into Sheppard's shoulder. "Is it safe?"

"I guess." Sheppard didn't sound very confident.

"If it was ok for Teyla and Ronon, its ok for us, isn't it?"

"Yes but _why_ are there no Replicators?"

"Perhaps too busy? On vacation? Or-"

"-Or we've got it completely wrong," frowned Sheppard. He was starting to believe they were wasting their time here. Though Ronon and Teyla hadn't actually _seen_ Replicators. They really did need to find the location of that second mine if it existed. "Ok. Let's go for it."

"Wait!" Rodney pulled Sheppard back by his sleeve.

"What?"

"Did you check for cameras? They'd be no need to come into town if there was surveillance."

"There can't be any! No one came for Teyla and Ronon before when they were asking around. Didn't we just decide that?" said Sheppard, getting cross again.

"Sorry. Forgot. Just a suggestion. Hunger, you know," apologised Rodney, gesturing to his empty stomach.

"Yeah. Let's get in the inn, then, shall we?"

"In the inn?"

"Yeah. In the inn. That's what I said."

They left their hiding place in the side alley and threading their way through chatting groups of people, made it to the entrance door. Sheppard was about to enter first, when the door was suddenly flung open and a dishevelled man was thrown out head first, landing in a heap in the space made for him by startled on-lookers.

"You try that with my girls and you pay! Understand? You don't get to do that for nothing!" The passers-by stopped and stared as the man picked himself up, leering back at the closing door with malice. He thought better of retaliation, however, realizing he was under the close scrutiny of the crowd, and staggered away, probably to find somewhere to sleep off his inebriation.

"Huh, Teyla wasn't far wrong with the ill repute part, was she?" remarked Rodney. The two exchanged amused glances and entered the inn.

The noise of raucous laughter, drunken song and loud argument hit them. As did the heat and stench of too many unclean bodies close together. Ale and liquors flowed freely, swilling onto the floor. Gambling at many tables, the winners assisted by pretty ladies wearing too much red and rouge. Outside had been some semblance of gentility. Here was the mob and rabble.

"It feels like the set of some pirate movie," murmured Sheppard in a low voice.

They elbowed their way through the crush of inn clientele heading for a wooden bar on the far side. A buxom bodiced waitress, carrying a tray of flagons above her head was compelled to press up close to Sheppard. She smiled at him seductively. Reluctant to move on from her position of close proximity. Reluctant to move on from her position of _very_ close proximity. Sheppard returned the smile appreciatively. Rodney leading, pulled him forward with a jerk.

"Mind on the job, Captain Jack Sparrow!"

They squeezed two places at the bar. Now it was Rodney's turn to be smiled at. A short balding man with only one large front tooth and warts on his face stood on his left, gazing at him. Rodney tried to ignore him. But that fixed gaze was disconcerting. Rodney coughed, uncomfortable.

"Go on, talk to the guy!" encouraged Sheppard, obviously enjoying Rodney's affliction.

"What?!"

"We're not gonna get served any time soon, are we? We need info. and then get out."

"That's not what you were thinking a minute ago!"

"Just talk to the guy, will you!"

Rodney cleared his throat again. "Busy here today?"

"Yeah, always like this on Quarter Days." The man spat and dribbled with every word, making him even less endearing to Rodney.

"Go on," said an apparently unconcerned Sheppard, trying to catch the barman's eye. "You're doing just fine."

"Right." Rodney hesitated, squirming with the ordeal. Unable to look the man directly in the face on account of that crazy smile of adulation. "Quarter Days? They're… um… some sort of religious festival then?"

"You don't know? I didn't think you were from round here. Nah. Quarter Days is execution days. Comes round four times every year. Is when we rid ourselves o' the scum o' the world."

"Hmm. Sure you caught them all?" asked Rodney, looking round at the company.

"We always get a holiday on Quarter Days. So we can watch the executions." He said that with great relish. Rodney was suddenly appalled. These people watch executions for_ fun_?

The barman, wearing a soiled leather apron came over. The same guy who'd carried out the ejection at the door.

"Fedoc! Quit bothering these folks! Go on! They don't want to be talking to the likes of you."

The man skulked away.

"What can I do for you?" asked the barman, slopping dirty water, going through the motions of cleaning the bar top in front of him.

"My friend here was wondering if you served food," said Sheppard easily.

"He wants food?" He seemed as much alarmed as surprised.

"We can pay," assured Sheppard, pulling out Teyla's pouch.

"No. No. You keep your coins. I am honoured to serve a Nannoid." He bowed slightly to Sheppard but cast Rodney and his P90 a doubtful up and down look. "We have bean broth. Cold meats. And because of Quarter Day, a chicken stew."

"I'll settle for cold meats," Rodney believed it safest. Though he truthfully believed it safest not to eat at all, judging from the dirt and grime soiling the bar surface.

"Find a table and a waitress will bring out your meal." And the man left to see to their order.

"He thinks you're a Nannoid!" hissed Rodney as soon as he had gone.

"But not you?"

"I'm having a meal. You know, we've never been able to find out how much of the Asuran make-up is organic. Whether they actually consume food. Apparently not, then."

Sheppard was keen to keep the illusion that he was a Nannoid going. The barman had already demonstrated a degree of mistrust towards Rodney and he didn't think they'd ever have any chance of gaining info. from anyone if they discovered that he too wasn't a Nannoid. No ordering a drink then. And he was thirsty and had been tempted to buy ale.

They sat side by side at a table at the back wall. An empty place wasn't too difficult to find now, as fellow patrons of the inn were departing in dribs and drabs, bidding each other farewell. At this rate, there soon wouldn't be anyone to ask questions. The waitress of Sheppard's earlier encounter passed by and began to clear a neighbouring table. Sheppard caught her eye and smiled again. Busy with a cloth, she smiled back.

"Will you quit that!" objected Rodney. Sheppard ignored him, extracting a large coin from the pouch and carefully placing it on the table in front of him.

"Care to sit with us a while?" he invited. With no hesitation, she abandoned her dirty crocks and came to sit opposite Sheppard. She rested her chin on the backs of her hands and flirted with her eyes. Sheppard did likewise.

"I don't believe this!" protested Rodney, in disbelief.

Again Sheppard ignored him. "And what's your name?"

"Milly."

"Milly's a real pretty name," he drawled provocatively.

"Thank you." She lowered a hand, to toy coquettishly with the coin, knowing the movement would bring her closer to Sheppard.

"And tell me, Milly, you like Nannoids?"

"I don't know. I've never been with one. It might be kind of interesting," replied Milly with a wicked tone.

"Oh please!" Rodney could stand it no longer. "He meant it in the generic sense of the word! Nannoids. As a whole. Do you like them? Yes or no will be suffice!" Sheppard kicked him sideways under the table. It was too late, however. The girl, stiffened and sat up, already sensing a different motive behind the question.

"Nannoids are good people," she replied guardedly.

"Good? People?" Rodney was incredulous. As far as he was concerned, you just didn't put the words good, people and Replicators in the same sentence. What Millie had said just didn't make sense.

"In return for our labourers in the mine, they have built us a hospital. Staffed it with a doctor and nurses. Provided a school for our children where they are instructed in their technology. Constucted roads for us and soon, they hope to effect a change in our weather systems so that we may grow better and more crops. If we were ever to be visited by the Wraith they have weapons that will protect us." It was quite an affirmation and seemed totally genuine. Though there was something about it suggesting she believed this was a test of some sort and she was careful to be correct.

"And the labourers in the mine. They are… content?" Rodney decided to continue with this line of questioning.

"Oh yes."

"And nothing is too taxing? They don't, for instance…" Rodney stopped, pretending to think of an example, "find the journey to work too far or too strenuous?"

"Oh no. The new road from the meeting house in the square takes you straight there."

"Thank you, Milly. That's all we needed to know," concluded a satisfied Rodney, giving Sheppard a smug look. They now possessed the exact location of the Replicator mine. And knew that one existed.

The barman arrived with Rodney's food, glaring at Milly.

"You should be serving at tables," he growled. She stood and flounced off, snatching the coin from the table before she left.

"Hang on! This isn't what I ordered!" complained Rodney but the barman had left too.

"Just eat it! We need to be going." Rodney was peering disparagingly into a steaming bowl of chicken stew.

"And what if it's got lemons in it-"

"-They don't grow lemons here," butted in Sheppard quickly, before he received the full run down on Rodney's lemon allergy.

"You know that for a fact?" He asked, scoffing a mouth full of side order bread. Sheppard was probably right. It rained too much for lemons. And he really was starving. And that was probably down to the weather too. With great relish, he plunged in the spoon, allergy or no.

"You know, this doesn't make sense," Rodney was chewing and talking at the same time, "altruistic Asurans? A small group then? Trying to Ascend? Like Niam on the Replicator Homeworld? Though," another mouthful, "they wouldn't really need a local labour force. Everything would be fully autonomized. Just trying to keep the folks here happy?" He went to take yet another bite of bread.

"Hey! You! You're eating _my_ food!" And a fist banged down hard on the table.

Rodney started. Dropped his bread, nearly upsetting his bowl, which he nervously steadied with both hands. He looked up and swallowed hard.

His accuser was… huge.

Taller than Ronon and probably four times his girth. With as much hair and beard. But black and unkempt. An ugly face made uglier by the drunken aggression that was there. He glowered from his position near Sheppard, who'd been forced to stand pretty damn quickly to avoid being elbowed in the face. All those in the room fell silent and motionless, staring in their direction. _Great. So much for a_ _low profile,_ thought Sheppard. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that the barman was sending out an errand-boy. Probably to call the local equivalent of the cops. This had to be sorted before they arrived.

"I'm…I'm sorry. It was a misunderstanding. Here. You take it," stammered Rodney.

"I don't want it now after you've been eating it!" bellowed the man. Though he didn't seem like he'd ever been that particular before in his whole life.

"No. No. Of course not. Help me out here, Sheppard!" Rodney pleaded.

"We'll order you another," offered Sheppard, forcing a smile.

"That was the last lot! The barman told me!" And with that he lunged across the table reaching for Rodney's throat.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" cautioned Sheppard, attempting to hold him back with both hands. Sheppard was merely flung to one side like a rag doll, crashing down awkwardly against his chair and falling to the floor, jarring his head on the wall behind. The room swung round for a second. And when Sheppard had managed to level it again, he saw that the man had rounded the table, lifted Rodney by his collar and had pinned him up against the wall. Sheppard struggled to his feet.

"I get really riled when someone steals my food!" growled the giant.

"You do? Hm… Me too!" squeaked Rodney, begging Sheppard with his eyes to do something.

This didn't justify the use of Sheppard's P90. A last resort, perhaps, yes. A weapon like Ronon's, with stunner selection would be good. That should be standard issue, he thought. Right now, he'd settle for an elephant gun with a tranquiliser dart…

He grabbed a chair. Swung it high and hard, down on the man's head.

The chair smashed to smithereens. There was a groan. And the big guy's hold on Rodney instantly relaxed. He started to fall backwards. Sheppard tossed the remains of the chair to one side and deftly moved out of way as Rodney's attacker crashed to the floor.

_Ok. That shouldn't have been that easy. _

The man raised a hand weakly, moaned again and then lay still. Too still. A woman screamed and rushed to his side. "Gavod! Gavod! What have they done to you?! Oh Gavod, my husband!" She lifted a lifeless hand to her cheek and wept inconsolably.

Rodney, meanwhile was gasping and choking, leaning on the wall.

"You ok?" asked Sheppard, keeping a wary eye on the other inn customers.

Who were beginning to circle round them.

Rodney gestured feebly, bravely waving him off.

The woman was continuing with her crying. Sheppard knelt on one knee beside her, feeling for a pulse on her husband's neck. _Dammit. The guy was dead._ The woman saw his look of alarm.

"Oh Gavod! Oh Gavod!" She appealed to the crowd. "He had a weak heart, you know! They have killed him! They have killed my Gavod!"

Sheppard didn't stand soon enough.

And Rodney hadn't yelled his warning soon enough.

Half a dozen of the townspeople suddenly seized hold of Sheppard's arms, dragging him on his knees, away from the body and grieving widow. He vainly struggled. Attempting to put a foot down to give himself leverage. To push himself up and get free. Shouting at Rodney to run for it. But Rodney had already been overcome. Caught while fumbling for his P90. He hadn't even managed to stand up straight yet. And was easy prey. Pulled and shoved. And thrown down to kneel beside Sheppard.

Though on his knees, Sheppard was still straining with every muscle to escape. His efforts multiplied when pawing hands removed his vest and rifle. He succeeded in freeing an arm, madly and indiscriminately striking anyone who came near. One of those grasping his other arm, was able to come close enough to clutch at his hair, yanking back his head till his neck hurt. _Well, that stopped him._ Powerless to fight any longer, his hands were grabbed and bound tightly behind his back, leather ties cutting into his wrists. They weren't going to take any chances. For whoever was pulling his hair still hung in there. And the guy had been provided with a knife that he held nice and close to Sheppard's jugular. And he wasn't too particular about holding it steady. Sheppard hissed with the pain.

"Should've had more lessons with Teyla," remarked Rodney gloomily. _Yeah, thanks for that._

Sheppard couldn't reply. And even swallowing was difficult. He dearly wanted to tell the guy behind him to lay off. _They'd gotten him where they wanted him, hadn't they?_ He assumed Rodney was also bound and deprived of his vest but he now had such an oblique view of the room, it wasn't easy to tell. He was aware of a commotion at the door. Apparently, the local guard had arrived. He didn't get an eyeball on them until they were directly in front. They wore metal breastplates over leather tunics and uncomfortable looking helmets. Swords as weapons. Not Replicators thankfully.

"Look. This is a dreadful mistake-" began Rodney's protest.

"You won't speak until asked." This spoken with firmness and unmistakable threat. From a guard who sported a blue feather plume. The officer then. He was good. He'd shut Rodney up before the scientist had hardly got started. Sheppard wished he had that kind of power.

Someone was resuming a previous explanation. "You see, they are not Nannoids. The taller one there is grazed on his hand." When Sheppard broke the chair. _Yeah. And it hurts,_ thought Sheppard. "And now the cut on his neck… And the shorter one, ordered and consumed food."

"Yet they carry weapons that are much like the Nannoids," observed the officer.

"They must have stolen them!" This Sheppard recognised as the barman. "Like they stole food from me pretending to be Nannoids. Liars as well as thieves and murderers!"

Rodney could never hold back for very long. "That's so not true!"

"Quiet!" The officer was losing his touch. As Rodney took little notice.

"We acted in self-defence-"

That did it.

A smack to the side of the head should usually work on Rodney.

Or not.

Rodney was certainly being persistent in a big way. "We weren't to know he had a weak heart." He had to speak very quickly before the next strike. Sheppard instinctively moved to come to Rodney's aid but the increased pressure of a knife blade at his neck reminded him that wasn't such a very good idea.

The officer moved forward, more into Sheppard's field of vision, impassively looking down into Sheppard's upturned face.

"So, this is the one who dealt the fatal blow?"

"Yes! It is he who killed my beloved Gavod!" Several occupants in the room agreed with her. "He did not deserve to die that way!" Again much agreement. It appeared suddenly that the big guy had been popular, though it couldn't have been for his charm and good looks.

The officer walked away abruptly. "Culpability has been proven! Take them to join the others!"

"What others? What others? Where are we going?" worried Rodney, as guards on either side of him hauled him to his feet. It might as well have been a rhetorical question as no one answered. Sheppard had his own two guards and they were led out into the street, where yet more guards surrounded them to form an escort. He was perversely thankful to be out of the inn. His knife-holding assistant had been dumped finally.

A light dreary drizzle fell. The street was empty, free of the former crowds. With a clear path, they were hustled along at a smart pace.

_The street was empty._

Their predicament was pretty dire to say the least. But the thought that now went through Sheppard's head fairly made his stomach lurch. He'd found the answer to Rodney's questions.

The street was empty. It was a public holiday. A Quarter Day… Execution day.

And it was soon confirmed.

Up ahead could be seen a thick gathering of people. Murmuring. And then a sudden loud cheer.

Rodney's group were in front. "Where are they taking us?" called Rodney desperately over his shoulder, completely mystified. Mercifully, he hadn't figured it out yet.

Dammit! There was no way to escape this. There was no way to throw off this number of guards. And Ronon had no way of knowing they needed rescuing. Sheppard had never arranged a dead line. A rendezvous. This was in every way his own fault. And he had led Rodney to it. This was Private Lorne all over again.

They were taken around the back of the crowd. Faces turned to watch them go by. Some jeers and mocking laughter.

And there it was.

A timber platform standing at head height, set on a dozen stout wooden poles. Men were visible moving around up there.

And one of them was wearing a black hood with holes cut for eyes.

"Oh no! No! No! No! No! This cannot be happening!" Rodney was pale and wide-eyed. "Haven't you people heard of trials? Or juries?" Rodney and Sheppard and their entourage had come to a halt at the bottom of a set of steps that led to the top.

"I think, Rodney, we had that at the inn," said Sheppard, almost inaudibly.

To one side, a cart had been placed, with an ox patiently waiting in its traces. A dull thump signified that more of its load had just been pushed unceremoniously off the platform.

The guards with drawn swords, untied their hands and roughly removed their jackets. Make a break for it now? Any better to die by a sword down here than up there…? But there were just too many guards. And too many drawn swords.

"John?... My sister…" There was a tremor in Rodney's voice. "No one will ever know…" Sheppard felt pretty choked too. Would it be any consolation to Rodney that at least someone would miss him? He only wished he could convey, somehow, all the deep regret… sorrow… pity he was feeling right now. Not realising that in one brief glance he'd done just that.

Their hands were re-tied.

Rodney rallied round a little. "You haven't a plan, then? Any crazy plan will do."

"No. There is no plan," he said quietly. Attack at the top? Element of surprise? There were less guards up there, after all? That was as good as it was going to get. They waited for the previous unfortunate's guard to dismount the stairs.

"Of all the ends, I never imagined… never thought of…" Rodney's agonised mind couldn't supply the word. "What…What do you think it… feels like?"

"Don't!"

"Do you think it'll…hurt?… Much?"

"Don't!"

"Up!" ordered one of the men. Their arms were grabbed once more and they were manhandled up the steps. Rodney first.

They'd been a low buzz of conversation from the crowd which now turned to loud clapping and cheering at their appearance on the platform, delighted with an additional show for the day. An outrageously dressed man in bright red and green squared check, a town crier or court jester of sorts, was announcing their crimes.

"Guilty of mendacity! Guilty of thievery! Guilty of murder!" Each indictment encouraged a louder cheer from the crowd, settling down to a general chatter as final preparations were made.

Rodney was shoved to the front, to stand before the block and stared down in utter dismay. Sheppard was dragged to the back of the platform and forced down on his knees again, his guards still maintaining a tight hold on his upper arms.

If they had any chance of escape now, it'd be down to Rodney, virtually free of his guards.

The executioner was cleaning his axe with a bloodstained rag, dipping it into bloody red water held in a wooden bucket, which he then picked up and sloshed over the block and Rodney's feet. Rodney hardly flinched. He was numb. No way could Rodney be expected to initiate any attack.

"You did the killing! You can watch your friend die first!" snarled a guard in Sheppard's ear. Sheppard reacted instantly, struggling again to break free. He might as well fight now as any other time. He nearly succeeded. His guards lost their grip of his arms, reduced to snatching at his shirt. But one of Rodney's guards had dropped back and using the hilt of his sword struck Sheppard hard across the side of the face.

The crowd roared their approval.

It was a weird noise to Sheppard.

A whizzing deep in his head. Coming from the blackness that was there.

And weirder. The floor of the platform hit him too.

"Sheppard!" He mustn't pass out. Rodney needed him. He blinked hard and opened his eyes.

"Hey, don't damage the goods!" complained a black blur in the sky. He shut his eyes tight again to fight the nausea. The pain ripping his left jaw and temple. "Sheppard!" Rodney needed him. He_ had_ to get his eyes open.

A boot crushed down on the back of his neck. Pressing his injured face hard against the timber boards. _What was it with these guys and necks? And didn't they listen to their executioners?_

"John!" Rodney needed him. He sprung his eyes open. "Rodney?" but his voice was nothing more than a feeble moan.

The green and red jester was speaking. More like a clown now. This was surreal. He hated clowns.

"It is customary for the executioner to be given a coin for the trouble of sharpening his axe for a clean cut and speedy death."

The jester prodded Rodney and nodded to the axe man waiting for his pay. Rodney merely stared at the jester blankly. He was still in a state of shock.

"Rodney!" called Sheppard. Louder this time. Able to lift his head a fraction. Rodney glanced in his direction. And the old McKay made a smart return.

"You're kidding me, right?" he said, addressing the Jester. The latter shook his head.

"Well, I don't _seem_ to have any loose cash on me at the moment! Perhaps if you were to come back later?!" Rodney was in true sarcastic form. There was laughter from the crowd and then jeers and cries of 'get on with it!' The jester promptly exited down the steps. "Hmm, not going to ask me for any last words, then?" More laughter.

Rodney's guards, not amused, abruptly forced him down on his knees.

This was going to happen all too quickly.

They were going to die here.

Horribly.

And Rodney was going to die here horribly first.

"Rodney!" The shout nearly gagged in Sheppard's throat. Tightness in his chest. Heart pounding loud against his skull.

Somewhere... from somewhere he had to find some strength. He threw off the guard at his neck, rolled over, and made it up onto one knee, only to be overpowered once more. He twisted and writhed desperately, the guards grappling at his arms and ripping his shirt to restrain him. "Rodney!"

"Oh no! No! You can't do this!" protested Rodney, frantically struggling with his bindings, as hands roughly pushed his head and shoulders down onto the block.

Rodney could speak no more. His words, strangled and choked by the hard wood pressed against his throat.

The crowd fell silent.

"Rodney!" Sheppard. Alone. "Rodney!"

The executioner heaved with his axe, the blade arcing silently and swiftly through the cold white sky.


	11. Chapter 11

_Thanks for the reviews!_

_Now, where's that Ronon...?_

_Oh, but you wanted me to take my finger off the pause button?... This one?... Or that one?..._

* * *

Chapter Eleven

"Where do you think the guards went?" asked Shepto. Ronon was examining the ground. The rain had washed away many of the tracks but Ronon was certain that only he and Shepto had been here in the last hour.

"They weren't taken. Must have gone in the cave." Though why, he just couldn't figure out.

"It doesn't look safe," said Shepto dubiously.

"That's coz it's not!"

Shepto was gazing upwards to the grey-blue cliff high above the cave's entrance where ivies, vines and bushes hung precariously. Half a dozen small streams of water wound their way round bare white exposed roots and clumps of earth and rock, to drop three or four metres, noisily at their feet. There was evidence that much of what Shepto was surveying had only recently slipped forward.

"It's the rain."

"Yeah." But Ronon just wasn't interested in the why's and why for's. They had a job to do. "Coming or not?" He was already well inside the dark interior, his presence only known by the red stunner setting of his gun. Shepto followed without a word.

They retraced Lorne's team steps, tracking boot prints in the mud, careful to avoid contact with the fungi and the strange white creatures.

"You don't think there's any Iratus Bugs?" Ronon merely grunted in reply and Shepto couldn't decide if that was a yes or a no.

On his last mission with Lorne's team, they'd also entered a cave. The other marines had told him stories of the Iratus Bug and how it liked dark damp places. It was their idea of a joke. To scare the young rookie. It had failed. This marine had been told tales of Wraith at his mother's knee and had witnessed both his parents' demise at their hands. Nothing could come close to the horror of that...

They had also talked of Ronon. How intimidating he could be. _Don't you ever get on his wrong side. You never ever wanta see his wrong side. _Again it was to 'wind him up' as these Earth people put it. But Shepto had seen that too and had lived to tell the tale.

Shepto was never one to hold grudges. Ronon's former accusation against him was forgiven. Though not forgotten obviously. He had understood how Ronon was feeling after the Colonel's accident. After all, Ronon's friend's chances of recovery had been slim. He was angry and probably needed someone to blame. And was it not right and fitting that if Colonel Sheppard _had_ been assaulted, the perpetrator should be found and apprehended? Teyla Emmagan was pleased that her protégé had seen it that way. She said Shepto had a wise head upon young shoulders. Both of them had forgiven Ronon but both were saddened that Ronon had not trusted Shepto.

And Shepto felt that lack of trust more acutely than Teyla could ever guess at. His high esteem for Ronon was second only to Colonel Sheppard. You could not help but be in awe of his skill in combat. And his resilience. He had been a Runner from the Wraith for seven years and had eluded them. Shepto yearned for that admiration to be reciprocal. And here Shepto showed his young mind. Such respect could only be earned with time and experience.

They had been walking in the mine section for some time, following just the two lines of light, one red and one white.

"Hey, Ronon! They're like those sabres in that film they showed in the Mess Hall last week. You know the one. Star Wars."

"Yeah!" came Ronon's agreement in the darkness, with just the hint of a laugh. He'd seen it before. When he first came to Atlantis. Sheppard had started calling him Chewie. At the time, Ronon could never understand why.

As they walked, Shepto mimicked the noise of a light sabre, moving his P90 left and right so its beam appeared to attack that of Ronon's.

His voice echoed. And echoed. They fell silent. The two looked into the darkness ahead of them. Their faces dimly lit. Apprehensive.

"Time to quit messing," said Ronon gruffly. Shepto already knew that.

They'd reached that part of the mine where the tunnel divided into two. Black pools of water on the ground made it virtually impossible to discover tracks. They tried calling. Again, the eerie long echo.

"We'll keep to the right and see if we can pick up something further ahead. If not, we back track," determined Ronon.

"We shouldn't separate then? It would save time."

"Not if either one of us gets lost." Ronon wondered if that's what the two Marines had decided to do.

Another fork.

"Which way now?" asked Shepto. The floor beneath them was now of smooth rock, with none of the former slime and mud to show prints. It seemed impossible to tell. Ronon squatted down and examined the ground with his light in the mouth of the first tunnel. And went through the same process with the second.

"Here. They went this way."

"How can you tell?" And Shepto bent down beside him to see.

Ronon patiently explained. He seemed to welcome the opportunity to teach the youth. "See the chips of stone. Their boots. Scratched those into the rock. See the small marks. Fresh and white. There's none over there. So, they went this way." They stood and walked on.

They were aware now of water streaming down the sides of the mine, shimmering in their light beams, depositing accumulations of earth and loose shingle onto the floor and gouging out small gullies, bubbling and frothing black. Dark droplets fell constantly from the roof, getting uncomfortably down their necks and in their faces. While Shepto fidgeted and wiped them away, Ronon seemed to remain oblivious.

"It's the-" began Shepto.

"-I know. It's the rain." Finished Ronon. Knowing that, didn't help. Every step they took confirmed this was a dangerous place to be.

Another division and Ronon checked the floor again. This time, however, he didn't continue. Instead, he went over to the wall. Unable to find what he was searching for, he strode over to the other side.

"What are you doing?" asked a curious Shepto.

"Unless Lorne is the complete jerk I think he is, he should have left marks to find his way out again. If he hasn't, then we should. There may be other splits up ahead." He found what he was looking for. A cross etched into the blue rock, scarcely visible under the water washing down from above. Whenever the cross had been made, it was certainly before the seepage through the ceiling had begun. To Ronon, this signified that things were getting worse.

Shepto sensed a problem. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. We keep going."

Was it right to carry on? When Ronon had been the one to tell Lorne that it was unsafe and therefore stupid to attempt come in here in the first place? This was starting to feel less of a search mission and more of a rescue mission. And if they were not careful, they'd need a rescue mission themselves.

Once. A noise. A low rumble. Felt, more than heard.

"What was that?" asked Shepto. A sudden rush of colder air followed.

"It was the wind?" he suggested. Ronon believed he must be right.

The floor began to slope, and flood water ran freely over its surface to the depth of their boots. Eventually to meet up with an underwater river, running at right angles to the tunnel. Forming a basin, about five metres wide at the cross over point. Without a second thought, Ronon gathered up his coat around his waist and waded in, expecting Shepto to follow. The Athosan hesitated. Ronon turned.

"What's up?"

"I… I can't swim."

Ronon was a little taken aback. A marine who couldn't swim? But Shepto had completed his training on Atlantis with no opportunity for river exercises.

"No one taught me… no one could teach me…I have… a fear…"

"A fear of water?" Shepto could hear Ronon curse under his breath. He had lost status in the eyes of the Satedan.

"Yes. You won't tell any one, will you?" That was the last thing on Ronon's mind. He just had to get the youth over to the other side and was damned if he were going to carry him.

"Well… it's not that deep… Here… take my hand." Ronon was forced to let the end of his coat fall into the water. He didn't want to holster his gun and lose its light. Still Shepto would not come.

"Now!" When prompted like that, Shepto did as he was told and grabbed the offered hand. He really had little to fear. The water level came only up to his waist and the ground beneath was firm and solid. They were soon across and walking again none the worse for wear. Though Shepto was shivering slightly. The cold and wet. Ronon couldn't be certain.

"When you have a fear. Like that. You face it. It makes you stronger!" counselled Ronon in his usual curt manner.

"Yes, sir. I will remember that."

The going improved. Though it was far from ideal. Ronon figured that if the scientists were stopping and taking their samples, the team would be slowed down. Ronon and Shepto, in theory, should soon be catching them up. He called out Lorne's name again. Shepto followed suit. There was no reply. They continued to call for Lorne at regular intervals, but only the long echoes were thrown back at them. Still, retracing Lorne's route, they too circumnavigated the edge of the vertical shaft treating it with the same caution. Within minutes, the gradient sloped again and the wetter, more treacherous conditions returned. They were soon dragging their feet through deep sludge and every so often, an ominous splash at the sides of the mine signified yet more slippage at the edges.

"I think we should go back." This was more of a plea than a suggestion from Shepto, after he stumbled for the second time in his efforts to keep up with Ronon.

Ronon was ready to concede. He hated giving up but saw there was much wisdom in doing so. For him, it was confirmed. Lorne was a fool to lead his team into this. He stopped and called the man's name again. No reply. But… and that was odd… the echo didn't sound so loud and hollow.

"We go on."

A disappointed Shepto followed him.

Within a minute, however, Ronon stopped again, the light of his gun no longer diminishing into the blackness of a tunnel. There was something solid ahead. He surged his way forward through the mud and water, his coat like a fettered weight behind him, flicking his light left to right, up and down, unsure exactly what he was looking at.

Rocks. Stacked high up to the roof. A cave-in. And the way ahead was blocked.

And in the light, briefly, a booted foot of a Marine. Ronon moved closer to examine the grisly find.

A thick slurry snaked around and over the rocky debris, occasionally nudging stones and boulders.

This lot was still on the move.

A grating noise to his left. Shepto's light. The boy had climbed a slope. Peering into a partially buried smaller tunnel.

No time. For a warning.

A deafening crack.

And the mass before them exploded. Hurtling rocks and mine detritus. Gushing mud and oily black water.

Ronon turned to run. Struck down instantly by the torrent. Scrambled to his feet. Gasping for air where there was none. Jammed in the back by mine timber. Tossed it aside. Clutched his arm as a rock struck. Tripped by the avalanche. Down in the mud again. Hauled himself over to the left of the mine. Half-threw and half-collapsed into a corner. Protecting his head with his hands. The thudding bombardment around and over him. Hoping against hope that he'd survive. Somehow…

* * *

"Did you hear that?" They all stopped and listened.

A noise like low thunder. Then silence.

"It was back at the cave-in." Still the silence. As they listened again. That had been the second time since they'd left. Privately they all gave thanks that they'd decided to move on. They'd been reluctant to do so as it meant leaving the body of Marine Wilson behind, half buried in the rubble. Radek was positive the sight of the battered arm protruding from the rocks would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Major Lorne had ensured they all moved a safe distance away. Then returned, alone, moving aside a few rocks to access the Marine's dog tags, reverently replacing the rocks and adding others, to act as a makeshift grave. It'd been too dangerous to do anything else. Every few moments loose stones rattled down the surface of the wall that had now become their barrier to the outside world. For the cave-in had occurred immediately behind them. And as well as hazardous to approach, it also looked too impenetrable to dig their way out. They had no option now but to carry on forwards and hope that, sooner rather than later, and later better than never, they'd eventually discover an alternative exit.

If they thought the going was tough before, it was certainly tougher now. There were injuries to contend with.

Marine Wilson had taken the full brunt of the rock fall, dying in the process of throwing Dr. Chetley out of harm's way. Dr. Chetley, however, hadn't come out of it unscathed. Lorne suspected he'd incurred broken ribs and a broken arm and had strapped up the man's arm as best he could with a field dressing. Not easy in the virtual darkness, as both flashlights were now smashed and Wilson's P90 had been buried with him. Chetley could only walk now with the assistance of Marine Simpson, the only one left standing so to speak.

Radek walked with a marked limp having hurt his back and hip and was compelled to stop frequently, using the wall of the mine for support whenever he could. His glasses were wrecked in the fall and he had severely lacerated his right temple, narrowly missing his eye. The dressing he now sported made him look piratical. Lorne knew he was putting on a brave face. Radek had been given Simpson's rifle to hold and often the rifle's light dipped so low it was of no use to anyone. Much of the scientists' equipment had been lost. Lorne had emptied the contents of one salvaged backpack and filled it with water bottles and food only, which he carried.

Lorne also limped. He left the gash on his thigh undressed.

The ground was sloping slightly upwards now, which didn't help with the effort of moving forwards, but it meant the going was drier. The trickling sound of water was still close by, somewhere in the black obcurity. As were ominous creaks from the mine props.

Save for an occasional groan from Chetley, they inched their way through the semi-darkness in silence. They were all bruised, cold and wet, weary and in shock. Lorne knew that. But he'd be a fool if he believed those were the only reasons for any lack of conversation. They blamed him. All he could do now was to try and put things right and get them all out of this. It was the only apology he could offer them.

"Major Lorne?" It was Radek. Quiet and tentative.

"Yeah?"

"A light up ahead. See." Radek used the beam from the P90 as a pointer. Lorne heard him wince with the pain of lifting the weapon. With optimism rising, they picked up the pace. But before they'd even arrived at the spot, they could tell this wasn't the daylight and consequent escape they'd been hoping for. The mine had opened up into yet another cavern. High up in its walls, about three or four metres from the ground, was an opening, easily large enough to accommodate a man. And from that opening, a wide orange-yellow beam of light cut across the ceiling.

"Artificial lighting. I think it safe to assume this is the newer mining facility. The one Teyla believed to exist?" Radek's whispered tone was merely helpful. And tactful.

Damn! thought Lorne. Had he really got it so completely wrong again? He maintained his inscrutable face, however.

"Simpson?"

"Sir?" They were all talking in lowered voices without being asked.

"Give me a leg up." He handed his P90 to Radek to hold and slung his backpack to the ground. It still might be a way out. At least for one person to go for assistance. Simpson gently lowered Chetley to the ground, came over to his Major and cupped his hands ready to hoist Lorne up. There were some footholds higher up which Lorne made use of to climb to what was essentially a window. He gritted his teeth as the wound on his leg scraped against the rock. He had hoped to take a look and keep his head down but the thickness of the wall obscured his view. There was nothing for it but to pull himself up to sit on the ledge.

He was surprised by the scale of the operation. The paraphernalia and complexities of mining; cranes, gantries, pullies, trucks on rails, some empty and some holding the bluish-grey rock, all held, he reckoned, in the space of, say, two, maybe three football pitches. It seemed enormous. This opening was set up high in its ceiling and must have been hollowed out for ventilation. He was level with the lighting which he surmised was provided by some sort of low voltage batteries that threw out this sickly orange glow that filtered into the cave.

"Well? What do you see?" hissed Radek for them all, a trifle impatiently.

"Yeah, it's the new mine alright."

And when they said new, they meant it. He wasn't expecting this clean-cut composite interior that bore little link to the small timber town he had glimpsed outside. The wall opposite, the mining wall glistened a brilliant blue. Pipes, rubbery in appearance, hung everywhere and coil upon coil of yet more piping lay upon the floor, as did pools of water. They were using a high pressure water method of extraction and the low hum of a generator to run the pressure systems could be heard. A small kiosk type building sat to one side and through its windows could be seen three or four consoles. A control room. And it was odd. The whole operation was completely empty of people.

"There's no-one about." Lorne felt able to talk at a normal level now, as did Radek.

"Teyla said something about a public holiday."

"You know," and the Major leaned right over the other side of his ledge, peering down, "we could get out through here. There's a platform only a couple of metres below."

"There's two of us who couldn't," pointed out Radek gloomily.

"Damn!" And the exclamation had been nothing to do with Radek's remark.

Lorne pulled himself off the ledge quickly and slithered down to his original foothold.

"Sir?" asked Simpson with alarm, ready to come to the Major's assistance.

Lorne had eased upwards again, to watch through the opening.

"Radek?" he asked, his voice now lowered to a whisper again, "You know what Asurans look like?"

"Asurans?" came Radek's hushed reply.

"Yeah."

"You can see Asurans?" Radek seemed perplexed. But he knew the word meant danger.

"Think so." Two had entered the kiosk and were checking something on a console. Another three had walked over to some coils of piping, presumably to discuss a problem there as they seemed to be in radio contact with the pair in the kiosk. They all wore distinctive beige tunics.

"I'm afraid I can't help you." Radek had only once seen the head and shoulders of Oberoth, the Replicator leader on a screen on the day the Replicators had struck Atlantis with their satellite weapon. "Don't they look like Ancients? And I have only ever seen holograms of those."

"Me too. Simpson. I'm coming down." Lorne was helped to the ground, wincing as he landed.

"What do we do now, sir?" asked the marine.

"I honestly don't know. It's back to searching for a way out, I guess."

"And you're sure they're Asurans?"

"No. I'm not sure, Radek. And I'm not about to go and ask. But it's high tech. down there. There's no way the locals could have made this set-up."

"But I don't understand," said Radek shaking his head. "The Asurans should only be interested in mining neutronium. Not Nq2."

"Yeah, well they've obviously found a use for it now." Lorne felt bitter. Not only had he endangered their lives bringing them in this cave system but it would also have been for nothing if someone else had beaten them to the Nq2.

"How many are there? Can't we just take them out, Sir?" Simpson was like Lorne and reluctant to resume the search for an exit out of the old mine.

"I saw five but who's to say there's not more. And anyway, you can't kill Replicators with conventional weapons. Not for long anyway. And there's no way we'd get down there without being seen."

He bent down and picked up his backpack with resignation. "Let's move out." Radek handed him his rifle back and then shone his own P90 over to Simpson and Dr. Chetley.

"C'mon, Doc. We're moving." Chetley hadn't said a word since they'd stopped. He now appeared to be asleep. "Doc?" Simpson felt for a pulse at his neck. And then looked up. Shaken. "He's dead, sir."

* * *

Footsteps.

Hurried footsteps. With purpose and intent.

There was someone ahead. And that someone wasn't being careful. Not careful enough to ensure that he wasn't heard.

And Ronon was sure it was a man. A heaviness to the footfall.

Not Sheppard. He would never be that careless. And even McKay would be more cautious. The likely possibilities. As the two had said they would try and meet up again later. Therefore, this was someone going about their normal business. But who would consider it their normal business to enter a disused mine? He dived noiselessly into the blackness of a side tunnel and held his gun beneath his coat concealing its beam. He was ready though.

Whoever it was, carried a lantern that threw out a light, flickering and dancing with shadows across the ceiling and walls in rhythm to the footsteps. The odour of burning oil carried along by the cold draught, a stark contrast to the now familiar smells of wet stone and mud.

Definitely a local then.

Whoever it was, paused. As if to listen. Had Ronon been detected? He was aware he was holding his breath. Whoever it was, continued on his way, quickly approaching Ronon's hiding place. And provided he remained undiscovered, Ronon was prepared to allow the man to walk on by. Suddenly the man stopped once more. Only a metre from Ronon's position. The man appeared to listen again. And then called with a low 'halloa.'

Ronon whipped out his gun and held it to the man's temple. The man, however, showed very little surprise and merely held up his hands slightly, still holding the lantern. Ronon flinched and pressed his gun harder against the man's head.

"I have no weapons," he calmly reassured Ronon.

"No? Put down the lantern. Slowly. And then step back away, keeping your hands up. Higher."

Ronon moved around behind the man, bringing his gun down to point between his shoulder blades. The man dutifully carried out Ronon's instructions. Ronon then quickly frisked him, vigilant throughout for any sudden moves and scarcely moving his gun. The man was right. He had no weapons. And Ronon knew every hiding place. But Ronon still felt mistrustful. Even in this poor light he could see that the man wore a tunic of cream and beige over paler trousers now soiled with mud. The man had the same bearing as the Replicators he had once seen on the Asuran Homeworld. And yet… he'd respected Ronon's gun.

"Who were you calling?" he asked the man gruffly. The last thing he needed was for more of these guys to appear.

"I was calling you," the man turned his head slightly to talk to Ronon behind him. Ronon immediately responded by bringing his gun up to the back of the man's head.

"Keep looking forward."

The man sighed. "There is no need for the gun."

"That's for me to decide. Why were you looking for me? How did you know I was here?"

"I was actually looking for two of you. I saw two heading for the mine earlier?"

Ronon fell silent, reluctant to explain anything to the stranger. The memories came flooding back. The cave collapsing. Coming round dazed and bruised… And not being able to find Shepto. And leaving to turn back. A faint hope that the boy may have made it through the opening where Ronon had last seen him. But Ronon was a realist…

"By the looks of you, Ronon Dex, you had a narrow escape, but your friend was not so fortunate."

"How come you know my name?"

"Just accept that I do."

"Why?"

"I come with news of your other friends, and it is not good news."


	12. Chapter 12

_Whoops! Think I took my finger off the wrong pause button first!_

* * *

Chapter Twelve

'_Sing to me, Ha'ashme. Sing to me.'_

_And she sang in a haunting, sad voice._

'_What is the meaning of the words, Ha'ashme? It is a sad song.'_

'_It tells the story of a warrior, steadfast and brave, who leaves behind his true love to go on a quest but his mind is bewitched and darkened by the spirit of the forest, and when he does not return, hi__s true love believes he has perished. But his love for her is so great that he finds his way back to her.'_

'_It is a song both of death and hope… together in the same song, Ha'ashme?'_

'_Yes. Hope is all around us. In the passing of the seasons. In growth and in renewal. But death too. In decay. We hold hope dear all our lives but death is at the end. Hope does not conquer death. We hope to face death bravely. We hope that at our journey's end, death will treat us fairly and we will not suffer. And we hope for a journey beyond death when we will unite with our loved ones once more.' _

_And Eliosus kissed her. 'I will teach you to Ascend, Ha'ashme. You need not fear death again but live forever in hope.'_

Usually, the next victim would now be struggling. Or, as in this case, would be quiet. Seemingly resigned to their fate. Praying even.

Usually, at this point, the crowd would be cheering. Usually the executioner could enjoy his moment of another successful dispatch, of a job well done and hold up the head by a handful of hair with a triumphant shake. And usually yet another corpse would be unceremoniously dumped into the awaiting cart.

But this was… unusual. A low murmur from the spectators. Whispers of witchcraft. Mutterings of black magic. Their upturned faces. The whole spectrum from horror to general disbelief that they were witnesses to the supernatural. Again the executioner, with every muscle in his body visibly taut, brought down his axe. And again the axe seemed to brake hard, stopping within a hair's breath of Rodney's neck. And however much the executioner strained and grunted, he could not finish the blow. He ceased once more, recognizing defeat.

And relief for Rodney was uttered as a muffled groan.

"My Lord?" The axeman's question was directed to a raised covered dais of dignitaries, some fifty metres away. In the centre of the platform, stood his Lordship, dressed in a long purple coat and wearing a heavy chain of office. Minutes before he had been seated comfortably on his cushioned throne but had now risen, reddened and angered by the drama unfolding before him, gripping the dais' railings tightly. He was losing face in front of his invited guests, some of whom were there specifically to see that he could effectively maintain law and order.

"Finish him with a sword! A knife! Anything!" his Lordship screamed desperately over the heads of the crowd, losing all the decorum of office.

A guard promptly handed the executioner a knife, who in turn grabbed Rodney's hair, jerking back his head, preparing to slice open his throat.

Rodney had scarcely whimpered before the knife flew out of the executioner's hand and catapulted high into the air.

Rodney, forgetting instantly how sick he was feeling, watched mesmerized. Spellbound.

As did everyone.

As the knife then hung there.

Poised.

Turning downwards.

Plummeting.

Towards the alarmed crowd below. Panic. Screams. People pushing and shoving to escape. Fleeing in all directions. The knife landed. Rattling on the ground. Harmless.

The executioner pushed Rodney away in disgust. A second for Rodney to turn briefly, catching a quick glimpse of Sheppard. Eyes closed. A slight frown. Concentrating. Like he was in the Lantean chair. Firing drones.

"The other one! Try the other one!" cried his Lordship, madly pointing, indicating the second condemned man.

Rodney was hauled to his feet, protesting, and dragged away. And Sheppard was pulled over on his knees to the vacant place, his eyes now wide open. Confused, gazing down at the block.

Like someone just roused from a deep sleep.

"Save yourself!" called out Rodney, powerless to do anything else to shake Sheppard out of this stupor.

"Sheppard!... John!" It had been only minutes earlier, that Sheppard had been trying to persuade Rodney to snap out of it. This really had to be the worse kind of role reversal ever.

The spectators had re-gathered and some even jeered and catcalled having found renewed courage. Sheppard stared at them blankly. Deaf to Rodney's pleading. Making no effort to resist as the executioner pushed him forward, down onto the block. And heaved his axe for the third time.

"John!"

The sound of a loud thud on wood sent the crowd into a frenzy of cheering.

"Oh God…" murmured Rodney. And closed his eyes. Gulping hard. Nausea returning. Sure he was going to faint. Or manfully pass out. He had seen Sheppard's body go limp… this was… just too unbearable… Sheppard was... gone... all those times when he could have... gone... and now he was... gone... like this...

The townsfolk suddenly fell silent again.

"Once more! Once more!" His Lordship was back in full screaming mode. And Rodney's eyes were open in a second. Uncomprehending. Blinking. For Sheppard moved. True, he also moaned. But Sheppard moved and was still alive and was still, literally, in one piece.

The executioner had missed. At the last possible moment, the axe had twisted, embedding itself in the block near Sheppard's right ear. But slicing into the soft flesh above his right collar bone. An agonised cry from Sheppard, as the executioner wrenched free his axe.

Encouraged by the sight of red blood finally, the executioner took a deep breath, tightening every muscle with unprecedented effort, carefully aiming his next blow. Rodney imagined he was nearly licking his lips in anticipation beneath that black hood of his.

Sheppard's pain was still audible. And he was visibly shaking with shock.

"Look! I know it's easy for me to say, but you have to concentrate!" warned Rodney quickly.

Midway on the downward swing. A sound. Like the axe striking rock. The axe head flew off dangerously, narrowly missing a guard's head. The executioner cursed loudly, dropping the wooden handle beside Sheppard, rubbing his hands that smarted with the impact.

The crowd reverted back to its former whisperings of witchcraft.

"Again! Try again!" furiously ordered his Lordship, his rage still unabated.

"My Lord, it is impossible! Spells and charms have been uttered here today that I cannot overcome!" pleaded the executioner.

His Lordship was about to scream back his response when another of the dignitaries, who had previously walked over from his seat beside the throne, put a restraining hand on his arm and whispered in his ear.

"Oh no…oh no no no no… we _so _do not need this… Asurans," murmured Rodney under his breath.

* * *

They called it the Militia House and directed the pairs' guards to take them there. A gaunt grey building set off in one corner of the square, with the luxury, it appeared, of being the only construction in town to be made of stone. Irregular in shape, with a turreted watchtower at one corner. Rodney assumed it served many purposes. A fortification in times of trouble, a guard house, and judging by the bars at every door and window, probably the town prison too. Presumably this was the last port of call for the other unfortunate victims of the block. This hadn't been the case for Rodney and Sheppard thought Rodney cynically, who'd had the good fortune of a kangaroo court and its swift system of justice.

They had entered through a large studded wooden door that wouldn't have looked out of place on a Medieval castle, only to enter a small dark room with a tall vaulted ceiling. Outside, it was still drizzling, damp and cold. Inside it was damper and colder.

They and their guards had been instructed to wait.

"You ok?" Rodney asked Sheppard with concern.

"Hmm," came the stoic, tight lipped reply.

It was a stupid question really. Rodney knew Sheppard was far from ok. The Colonel swayed on his feet, his face all twisted up with pain, his shirt glistening with blood from the wounds on his shoulder and his chest. The latter Rodney hadn't noticed before. Perhaps due from a fight with the guards.

The crowd had been dispersed so that the prisoners and their escort could reach the Militia House unimpeded. But twice, Sheppard's guards had had to assist him to prevent him from falling. Their attitude had softened a little. _A little_. Their bindings were still too tight, making their wrists sore and red. Rodney was wondering if he should make an official complaint about that. Things were evidently different now. For better or worse, time would tell. And all due to the intervention of an Asuran. Asurans certainly had clout in this town. But why were they concerning themselves with the everyday running of the place? Were they really that desperate for labour in the mines? After all, these were the most technologically advanced… 'beings' in the Pegasus Galaxy by a long shot. Even Rodney had to concede to that. Though _he_ could give them a good run for their money given their resources.

"Thanks, by the way…," Rodney glanced at the guards, uncertain that he should be discussing this in front of them. Or talking at all. They made no objection, however, staring straight ahead. Though it was still disconcerting to speak with Sheppard around two armed guards. "… For doing that thing with the axe. I'm assuming that _was _you… I mean… I understood you didn't want to use your... um..." He wanted to say powers but felt it was a stupid word with all the celluloid connotations of Superman.

"I didn't," replied Sheppard through gritted teeth, understanding perfectly, "I just couldn't… see anyone else… lining up… to save your butt… that's all."

"You were hurt though? And you're not healing now?"

"No," Sheppard bravely tried smiling, "think I kinda run out of energy… Anyway… your thanks… appreciated… and all that…" he was finding it difficult to talk, taking short, sharp breaths to fend off the pain and was only marginally coherent. "But your thanks… might be… might be… a little… prem… premature… that was… an Asuran?... If… was… deep… deep… trouble…" With that, Sheppard shut his eyes and his knees buckled beneath him. His guards caught him by the arms and lifted him upright once more. Sheppard blearily opened his eyes again and was trying hard to focus.

"Hey! You should get him to a doctor! You have heard of doctors in this godforsaken place?!

"Actually, we have very good doctors." Rodney knew that. It'd been his anger talking. Which immediately subsided with the surprise of being spoken to.

"If he is ever attended to depends on how cooperative you are with answering our questions." It was the officer they'd seen earlier at the inn, who'd entered via a set of double doors held open by two more members of the militia. He stood aside, indicating that the guards should take their prisoners into the room beyond. Rodney was pushed forward, unable help Sheppard, who was dragged along, behind him.

It must have been a banqueting hall. Probably used as a mess hall by the local militia. Complete with flags and banners of purples, reds yellows and greens, draped from the ceiling and shiny silvery displays of weaponry. Three long, long wooden tables running down the entire length of the room lined with ornately carved high backed chairs. A massive fireplace at the opposite end contained a blazing log fire, the heat of which hit Rodney as soon as they entered the room. He hadn't realised just how cold he had become. And the aroma of hot spiced wine made him feel more miserable as he suddenly remembered childhood Christmases spent in the Canadian mountains. Partaking of these comforts was a small group of the former dignitaries. The fact that they were obviously not enjoying them was one consolation for Rodney. For an argument was in full progress while the escort made its way down the hall.

"And I assure you, we do not know where they originated from!" His Lordship in purple was in a full rage again. A reply came from one Asuran whose back was turned to them. Rodney couldn't make what was said. Another Asuran, younger in appearance, stood at his side and looked up at their approach with interest.

"In the future-" his Lordship stopped at their arrival and glared at them. The older Asuran also turned.

The guards placed Rodney before him, and allowed Sheppard to fall to the floor with a groan, close to Rodney.

"Careful!" admonished Rodney, wanting desperately to come to Sheppard's aid, and then happened to meet the cold stare of the older Asuran. "I mean…" Rodney faltered. And shut up. The younger Asuran had turned to the fireplace. He'd flinched at Sheppard's treatment. Clearly uncomfortable with this then.

Both Asurans seemed incongruous in these settings. Here amongst Medieval gaudiness. Their simple smart tunics reflecting their race's technological status. The older Asuran stepped forward a fraction. Rodney could never put his finger on why Asurans appeared different from humans. Some slight suggestion of the robotic in their movements. That was all. You couldn't even believe they were dangerous. But these were the guys who nearly destroyed Atlantis. Twice. Who would have killed the Team on their Homeworld if it weren't for the intervention of Niam. And who were, now probably responsible for the death of Elizabeth.

"These are yours?" questioned the Asuran, pointing to their tac vests and P90s laid out on the nearby table.

"Yes," bleated Rodney. He saw little point being anything other than honest where needed, certain there would be a time for bluffing shortly. But how exactly was he going to accomplish that if they did the-hand-in-the-head interrogation. He knew that it took a great deal of effort and self-control to lie, to hide the truth, in those circumstances. Conceited though he was, he knew his shortcomings and knew he'd be found wanting. Rodney saw the irony here. They'd been trying to find Lorne and warn him of the Replicators. Knowing that none of the Team could stand up to Replicator questioning without revealing the location of Atlantis. Only to wind up in their hands themselves. This really wasn't just. Two interrogations in one day. And if the earlier one was anything to go by, they weren't going to fare very well with this one either.

"These are not of this world." It wasn't a question exactly but the Asuran was expecting some kind of response.

"No. No, they're not," confessed Rodney. Sheppard was stirring beside him, attempting to push himself up on his knees. "Rodney…" he warned feebly.

"You came here by… spaceship then?" The Asuran was going to guess everything. There soon would be no need for the Hands interrogation. He didn't seem to need much more of the second two to put with the first two to make four. And that was in three easy questions. And how could Rodney reply? No? You could only make it to this planet through space or spacegate and that meant travelling by ship.

The Jumper had been left cloaked but if the Replicators couldn't find the Jumper, would they guess that fact and guess also the Atlantean technology?

"The Wraith. We escaped from the Wraith. The Wraith brought us here."

"The Wraith? The Wraith came here?" The Asuran looked at his Lordship, inquiringly. His Lordship shook his head. "And you escaped with your weapons?" The Asuran wasn't buying it.

"I need to know now why you are lying. Who you really are. And what you are doing here. And I need to know where are the others of your group who were seen in the town earlier."

"And how it was that you were able to resist the axe," interceded his Lordship.

"Yes. And that too. Are you able to answer all of these questions?"

Rodney shook his head dumbly. He knew what was coming. He swallowed hard.

"I have a way of finding out the truth. And since your friend has obliged us by kneeling, my collegue here will demonstrate on him." He nodded to the guards who grabbed Sheppard's shoulders to hold him steady. Sheppard cried out.

"Oh that's typical! Pick on the weakest!" snapped Rodney suddenly, amazing even himself with newfound courage.

"On the contrary, I believe the opposite to be true." The older Asuran stepped back to allow the younger access to Sheppard. Sheppard was already bracing himself, eyes shut tight. The younger Asuran, hesitated for a moment. Reluctance on his part.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" demanded the older Asuran.

The younger Asuran brought his down turned hand to Sheppard's forehead. Ready to penetrate with the fingers and read his thoughts. Rodney was wincing for Sheppard. He knew this would hurt. Unless…

The Asuran pulled back his hand sharply as if it'd been burned.

Sheppard opened his eyes wide, equally surprised that nothing had happened.

It was like the axe again.

Sheppard had been able to repel the mind probe.

"You are… Ancients?! How could this be?!" Both Replicators looked from Sheppard to Rodney in disbelief. The older concerned. Very concerned. The younger, scared. Dead scared. Over the top petrified even. Rodney couldn't fathom it out. Why react this way? Ancients were the Replicators' sworn enemies. Finding live ones after all these years should be a real cause for celebration and a chance to wreak revenge. Though he was relieved it wasn't, naturally. And relieved that they believed erroneously that both Sheppard and he were Ancients. But why the assumption that if the mind probing failed they were therefore Ancients? Mind-probing, yeah, it came under the category of harm. It certainly did in Rodney's book. Had the original non-harm coding against Ancients, somehow, reverted back to default. The last time the Pegasus Replicators had been encountered, when they'd overrun the Ancients on Atlantis some six months previously, the Replicators had deactivated this. Or Rodney had… accidentally… but he wasn't going to get into that. If so, it'd been Sheppard's new Ancient DNA then that had protected him from the mind probing. Not his new powers.

The dignitaries glanced at one another, disturbed and worried. They'd been looking to these Replicator overlords to sort this problem out for them and now they seemed incapable of doing so.

"You have plenty of empty cells now? Find them one until we decide what to do," ordered the older Asuran. And with that, both Replicators, hurriedly left the hall. Though fleeing would be more of an apt word, thought Rodney.

And then his stomach lurched for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. And not because his guards had grabbed hold of him again for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. Another word. The significant second person, plural '_we.' 'we decide_.' Rodney knew that the Asuran hadn't meant just the two of them. No matter what the outcome of this, literal, tête-à-tête had been in the hall. The Replicator collective consciousness database would soon be updated. The means by which Replicators shared all new information at routine intervals. The Mergers. Operating on a powerful subspace frequency so that distance from the Homeworld would be no barrier. But was he worrying over nothing? If the team had been experiencing interference on their subspace frequencies to radio Atlantis, then why not the Replicators? But perhaps with their advanced technology, they had overcome the problem… And then he wasn't worrying needlessly, after all, was he?… And immediately, Oberoth, their leader, would know of their presence in the Aloran System. And Rodney doubted very much that Sheppard was strong enough to go up against that particular Asuran...

* * *

Two Nannoid guards at the door. Standing to attention with prepared weapons. Superfluous as the Cruiser they were aboard was virtually impregnable. Double sealed doors and video sensors saw to that. An all penetrating white light ensured that an intruder would never find a shadowy corner to conceal themselves in either. Though that fact was incidental. The white lights were normal running lights on all the Cruisers. A low hum indicated that all systems were operational though this particular Cruiser had docked some ten minutes earlier, landing its important cargo safely.

And this important cargo promptly called a meeting of all leading personnel on this Aloran planet. Hence the guard at the door.

The door led into a Council Chamber especially prepared for the important cargo's use. A simple semi-circular table, positioned more or less central to the room. Seated at this, on high backed chairs, were half a dozen of the higher Nannoid echelon, none of whom appeared comfortable in the presence of their leader. Least of all, Sethon, the Nannoid who'd earlier tried mind probing Sheppard. Who was standing before the table, finishing the presentation of his report.

"So. They are Ancients? Both of them? You probed both of them?"

Sethon faltered, not wishing to admit to the omission. "No… We… I… assumed they were no different."

"It is of little importance," and his Commander dismissed Sethon with his hand. "It is my intention to try again myself later."

Sethon, relieved that the Nannoid leader had taken the fault so lightly, walked over to the table and stood behind one of the chairs, occupied by Callin, his mentor. It had been Callin who'd instructed him in mind probing, though Callin had never been able to master the art himself. Few of the Nannoids could. Callin believed he had better things to do with his time. Like studying the means to Ascension. Or enabling Sethon to read. He regarded mind-probing as an antiquated craft, a defunct file in their databases, serving no purpose in a Galaxy without any humans. And the Alorans were so agreeable and malleable, its use here was neglible, only used if some peasant had forgotten some important piece of information. Their intellect was so very underdeveloped.

Both Sethon and Callin knew, however, that there was at least one member of this Council present, who would not be averse to using the procedure on a fellow Nannoid. Its purpose, on those occasions, was not data retrieval…

Borlith, who stood behind the Commander, watched Sethon take his place with sneering mockery. There were two factions in this room. And Borlith and Sethon were on opposing sides. Sethon straightened and ignored him, looking straight ahead, concentrating on the proceedings of the meeting.

"But how can they be Ancients? Our databases show they were overrun by the Wraith and made their escape through the Space Portal," asked the most elderly in appearance of the Nannoids.

"Yes. _Aloran _Ancients. Perhaps if you were more attentive, you would have heard Sethon mention the fact that they were not of Alora," pointed out Zoltan, drily, sitting to the Commander's left. "Is it possible that not _all_ the Lanteans evacuated through the Atlantis space portal all those years ago."

"Or, and I believe this is more conceivable, the Lanteans who reached Earth, have returned once more?" suggested the Commander, whose name was Santal. "Whatever their origins, we must decide what is to be done."

Sethon sensed Callin. As he often did.

'_Santal had already decided the_ _matter.'_

'_It is a dangerous thought, Callin,_' Sethon warned. '_Santal will hear.'_

'_He is too busy feeding his ego.'_

'_Please, Callin!'_

'_Then I will be silent. You will read me no more.'_ He was nearly flippant in tone.

"It is obvious what is to done, Santal. We must release them, of course," insisted Minoch, the elderly Nannoid, sitting beside Callin.

"Why, of course?" asked Santal.

"To deny them freedom, still contravenes the non-harm directive."

"I do not read it that way. Does anyone else?" A hint of a threat in his voice. No one dared or wanted to say otherwise. Not even Santal's two supporters in the room, Midor and Vermeth.

"And there were only two, Sethon?"

"The villagers say a further two were at the inn earlier."

"It is, therefore, correct to assume there are more. Perhaps even many more. That this is a scouting party. They must have arrived by spacecraft?" Santal also addressed his question to Sethon.

"I have given instructions for a full search," supplied Sethon, eager to put right his earlier mistake. "Though none were ever detected approaching Alora. It is possible our sensors were down at the time due to em emissions."

"So, they came to the Alora system under secrecy. And I am alone in regarding these… Ancients as dangerous?" asked Santal, contemptuously, though it was difficult to decide whether the contempt was directed at Ancients, or at those in the room who held a differing point of view.

"But Lord Santal, they must be close to Ascension. To resist the axe like that. It is demonstrative of the increased powers that Ancients often achieve prior to Ascension," the elderly Nannoid again.

"Do not paint such a holy picture, Minoch. They were arrested in a common brawl."

"If their powers are so accentuated, why do they not escape?" asked Midor.

"I believe the issue is irrelevant. If they escape, or if we release them, they will still tell the others

of our existence," cautioned Vermeth.

"Yes, if they have not done so already…" agreed Midor.

"They carried radios but they were not operational," offered Sethon.

'_Whose side are you on?'_Callin again. He could not remain quiet forever.

Sethon back to Callin. '_I am trying to present the whole picture here, so a just decision can be made. Please, do not…'_

"And then we would be slaves again. And I, for one, could not submit to that, after being our own masters for seven millennia," said Santal.

Sethon sensed Callin yet again. _'Just poison them, like you did the Aloran Ancients. Problem solved.' _

'_You promised you would be silent!'_

'_Do not deny a condemned Nannoid a little sarcasm.__'_

'_What do you mean?' _It was difficult for Sethon to concentrate with this conversation in his head. If Callin replied, he did not read it.

"Perhaps we could persuade them to let us be. Especially now, when we have made such progress towards Ascension ourselves. They must see, surely, we are our own independent race now," Minoch was struggling to hold the moderate point of view.

"Ah, and that is my point entirely. What if they do not? We cannot begin to know their thinking," said Santal. "Unless a mind probe can show us…" he shrugged.

"Which is impossible."

"Just so."

"If we cannot kill them, to prevent them telling others, why do we not take them back with us and shut the portal," proposed Midor.

"We need the mines. And there may be other resources further a field," Santal reminded him curtly. He was fast becoming bored with these proceedings.

"You have a new directive? This is where you have been today? Surveying? Is that wise? What would have happened if you did indeed encounter more Ancients? Or even the legendary Wraith we have heard so much of?" Minoch was in full accusatory mode.

"The Wraith would not bother us, as non-humans." Santal kept his reply short, only answering the last question.

"Why not hold them as hostages? Perhaps in exchange for relinquishing all hold over us," suggested Vermeth.

"No. No. It is like taking them back to Edena. It still contravenes the non-harm directive," persisted Zoltan.

"You think they would do that for just two of their kind?" asked Midor, ignoring Zoltan.

"They might." Vermeth didn't sound convinced.

"And perhaps we should ask them to turn off the non-harm directive too? You think they would do that?" was Santal's sarcastic response.

'_Hm. But Santal has already turned off the directive.'_

'_How? How is that possible?'_

'_True, only for himself. It is only a matter of time before he will extend it to others.'_

'_How do you know?'_

'_The fact it is even being contemplated__... And I am reading something else… Listen. At some point, I will give you an order. You will know it. It will be my last wish. Also. Help the prisoners if you can. Prevent the probe. He will be able to access them, and then kill them. It will be your salvation.' _

'_Callin!' _Sethon found it nearly impossible to maintain an impassive face.

"And there is no way we cannot do that ourselves? Our scientists surely? It should have been turned off centuries ago when the last Ancients died or ascended. I cannot believe we have allowed it to remain dormant for so long and now our negligence has come to haunt us," Midor was clearly on Santal's side.

"You cannot be serious. To switch off the directive, to allow us to consider killing an Ancient will seriously undermine our ability to ascend." Zoltan clearly was not.

"Ascension is not important. It is a luxury that can only be afforded if our position is secure. What is the point of Ascension if we are slaves again?" demanded Midor.

"The Ascendeds will know what we have done. Be sure we will be punished."

"You believe that? Ascendeds have not intervened in anything for millennia."

"Keep one here and release the other. To be an ambassador. To show our good faith," Vermeth saw that as a good compromise. As did Minoch.

"That might work. We have evolved in this human form. In many respects we are the same as they. We might find a sympathetic ear. They might regard us as equals now."

"There have been too many 'ifs' 'perhaps' and 'mights' We are all going round in circles here. All supposition… Callin? You have been silent, thus far? I am glad you can keep your suspicious mind to yourself." Callin nodded and smiled.

'_He has read__ you?'_

"It was not a compliment."

"And I did not take it as such." The atmosphere in the room was suddenly electric. Everyone in the room knew of the animosity between these two.

"We would like to hear your opinion," said Santal. He looked around the room and found approval. He was trying to sound fair.

"I am sure you would."

"Well?"

"I think you should defer the problem back to Edena."

"But they have given me authority, Callin, to act on their behalf, whilst in Pegasus."

"To a degree. That's why we have this Council."

"I think I agree with Callin," said Zoltan.

"As I." And the remaining two further signified their agreement.

"This is too important for a communications update. A ship must go back and relay everything that has been discussed here at this meeting. Sethon will go." Callin stared steadfastly at Santal, defying him to argue the point.

"Everything?" Santal glowered back at him menacingly.

"Everything." '_Including your designs on Atlantis, to provide a powerbase from which to overthrow Edena.' _Callin allowed Santal to read him. Knowing Sethon could do the same but undetected.

'_You are malfunctioning. I have mentioned no such thing.' _Allowed Santal in reply.

'_It is inferred. And you are not strong enough yet for total jamming to prevent me reading you.'_

'_You know you cannot prove anything. Otherwise you would make your accusations openly.'_

Santal then smiled amiably at the others, though not concealing the scorn in his voice.

"So… you have all decided… to decide nothing? So be it."

And that's all Callin could ever hope for. There was more than the fate of two Ancients to be decided here. Santal was displaying his former tendencies. Callin had always felt it had been a mistake to place Santal in charge of this expedition. But the Lady Emanii had insisted. And Santal had, after all, led other mining expeditions on the Planet of the Three Islands. Callin had relented but only on the condition that a Council be established, that Santal was answerable to. The need for a full vote at Council would always hold Santal back. Buy some time. And each member of Council held a recording of each meeting in a unique file. Even Santal. That could not be overwritten. It was normal protocol and was sacrosanct to these Nannoids. And would be updated to Edena in the next merger. Sethon was now expected to report to Edena in person. If he did not show… then authorities in Edena would be immediately alerted. Even if Callin were deactivated, which he knew was a strong possibility, and even if Santal somehow found a way to interfere with the system, he would not dare touch Sethon. And it was reassuring, when Callin's inevitable end now faced him, that his protégé was protected from harm.

A bonus that Sethon possessed the additional data that Callin had fed him…

* * *

"It was a good council, my Lord Santal." Santal was accustomed to the sycophantic Borlith. He had his uses, so he was tolerated.

"There were those in the Council who opposed me."

"Yes. It is a pity they do not see wisdom."

"Shut them down."

"It would be an honour, my Lord. The report will specify a malfunction." Yes. Borlith was truly useful.

His Deputy hesitated before continuing. "I hope you do not think me bold, my Lord Santal, but perhaps it is time to take your rightful place as leader."

"You read my thoughts well."

"But prudence is still necessary. The slightest indication of your intentions back in Edena…"

"You underestimate me, Borlith."

"I hope I do not."

"Ah, but you do! Can you not see how independent I have become? We have become even? We can order the cessation of Council members and do not fear repercussions. I even believe I can override the no-harm directive and question our prisoners. I have come much further than my earlier version, who initiated the plague that wiped out our Ancients. They thought they could reduce me to a more servile form?! Ha! A millennia of bowing and scraping my forehead. The Lady Emanii, however, recognizes my abilities.-"

"-The Lady Emanii has shown great favour." Borlith was demonstating a high degree of patience. He was more than familiar with his Master's background, the details of which were often repeated.

"What do they see fit to do, however?! Send me on a menial mining expedition! They are still punishing me. But they are fools. Here… here I can seek or I can make… opportunities… such freedom was denied me in Edena. Those Nannoids who aspire to Ascension believing it to be the next step in the evolutionary process for our kind are fools too. It is merely following in the footsteps of our former masters. This is true evolution. To equal, and then surpass their power… And they are wrong to assume that if they send Callin and his cohorts here, they could watch over me."

"They will no longer be a problem to you, my Lord," reminded Borlith.

"Yes, but even with their presence, I was able to call for more ships through the Space Portal."

"And you were not detected, or questioned?" Even Borlith felt some alarm.

"No. Even you, my fixer, my spy of spies, were not aware."

"The Lady Emanii…"

"Eased the way. Yes." It flickered through Borlith's mind that it might be the Lady Emanii who possessed ultimate control. He pushed the thought away quickly in case Santal should read it.

"Then you are prepared for a push to Atlantis?"

"The home of our original slavery. Yes. If it still exists."

"And then, a triumphant return to Edena?"

Santal simply smiled

"And the Ancients in the Militia House? They will supply you with the location?"

"I will find Atlantis, with or without their help. It is not crucial. The Lady Emanii plans to join us eventually. If you follow my instructions, however, perhaps we can still extricate the necessary information."

"Of course, my Lord. Consider it done."

"And when we have it, I see no reason to keep the Ancients alive, do you?"

"No, my Lord." And Borlith bowed again.

"And Borlith?"

"Yes, my Lord?"

"Your efforts today will be rewarded."

Borlith hoped so. He truly hoped so.


	13. Chapter 13

_Thank you, reviewers (and readers, naturally!)_

_Why do I get the impression that you guys are only interested in pain, hurt, suffering, mortal danger etc etc?! And you think _I'm_ evil?!_

_So you've been getting a couple of chapters in quick succession here... then we can move on...coz... hey... that _is_ the sort of stuff I like too!! (Especially if it happens to Shep! Yum!)_

* * *

Chapter Thirteen

It was difficult for Teyla to ascertain the time of nightfall. The sky remained so overcast there was no way to determine the position of the sun. A digital display on the dash showed Lantean time. Useless on a planet that did not share the same length of day. But it revealed that a little over three hours had passed since the others had left. Surely someone must be returning soon? And that would be preferable before darkness. She tried her earpiece again, virtually knowing she would receive no response as on all other occasions.

She felt listless. Greyness as rain, drizzle or mist was the only view offered from the Jumper's windows. Truly, this must be one of the most depressing planets she had ever encountered. But she knew the real reason behind her unhappiness… and it had little connection with the weather or her boredom.

She paced up and down the walkway. Even attempted simple yoga. Acceptable, provided her attention was not distracted from the window and that she remained alert to any sound from the surrounding countryside. But the yoga was ineffectual. She could only think of Kaanan. And the meditation could not drive away the repeated incursion of bad thoughts that Kaanan and the Athosans had somehow fallen victim to the Wraith.

And then she thought again of Captain Lameros.

And how, thirty minutes after the departure of the rest of the Team, the man had come into view, standing immediately before the Jumper window, seemingly peering in.

Teyla instinctively held up her P90, alarmed. Was not the cloaking operational? She relaxed a little, certain the man was unable to see the Jumper for often his eyes appeared to looking at a point beyond the craft.

She held her head to one side, studying him. A curious juxtaposition. He wore the breastplate and sword in scabbard of the local militia she had seen in town. But whereas, they wore a uniform of heavy wool or leather tunics, that offered protection from the rain, he wore a paler, much lighter uniform. In addition, he carried a gun in a holster, and the last time Teyla had seen such a gun was on the Replicator Homeworld. Yet she was positive he was human. There was something… too fluid in his movements.

He stepped back and called. "You are alone?"

She was suddenly concerned again. How did the man know, if he could not see in? He seemed a little vexed as if he thought she could not hear. And held up a hand, horizontal, to indicate the Jumper, and held his other hand close to it, moving his fingers up and down, to show the action of the hatch door. He was asking her to open the back.

"Oh no! I am not doing that!" she said to herself out loud.

He frowned. Much as John would. Which was curious. There was a great deal about this man that reminded her of John. His build and looks. He was now removing his weapons and laying them on the ground, holding up his hands, never taking his eyes from where he assumed the Jumper window and Teyla were.

"I would like to talk! Can you open the door? See! I have put down my weapons! You have nothing to fear! I am alone too." When she failed to do so, he continued. "Look! Open the wretched door will you?! I'm cold and wet and people will soon think I'm crazy to be talking to the air!" His words were loud but there existed in their tone something reminiscent of that friendly cheekiness that John often displayed.

Teyla looked to the rear, undecided. She would never discover what he had to say if she did not raise the hatch. What if he had news of any of the others? She made one last check of nearby bushes to ensure he had no hidden accomplices. She moved to the back and pulled the lever, ready with her P90 to cover him. The noise of the hatch mechanism brought the man round to the back. She de-cloaked briefly and beckoned him in with the rifle, cloaking again immediately. He lowered his hands and took a step forward.

"No! You keep them raised! And remain there by the door!" hissed Teyla. She backed up to the bulkhead to maintain a safe distance between them. The man promptly did as instructed, though not without a little surprise.

"Now! Why do you wish to speak with me?"

"I didn't."

"I'm sorry?" asked Teyla, raising her eyebrows.

"I wished to speak with Colonel Sheppard. I saw your craft land earlier but I had duties to attend to. And now I have returned, only you remain. Can you tell me where he has gone, please?" He was more polite than John.

"This is all you wish to know?" But she did not allow him to answer her question before she had her own to ask. "How is it you knew the Jumper was here and that we hadn't all left? And how is it you knew I was alone? Who are you? How is it that you know the Colonel's name? And why do you wish to speak with him?"

"I was always taught it is impolite to answer a question with another. And that is… one… two… three… four… five…six? Mine first."

"But I have the gun."

He sighed. "Yes. You have. For which there is no need. You can trust me. I am Captain Lameros. Of the Militia. A Liasion Officer with the Nannoids. I could have reported you to either of those and the area would now be crawling with soldiers. But I didn't. And it's not. I wish to speak with the Colonel on a private matter. I knew of your Jumper's invisibility the same way that I know you are with child. _Now_ will you tell me where the Colonel has gone?"

If Teyla tensed at the mention of the Nannoids, she did so more at the mention of her pregnancy.

She nearly stammered. "You are a… seer?"

"And that is another question. No. A sort of telepathy. It's-" He made a shaky gesture with one of his raised hands. "And your secret is safe with me." And he knew she was keeping this fact concealed?

"He has gone into the town," said Teyla simply, wondering immediately if she had already told this stranger too much, taken in by the mere fact that he knew of her child. She raised her gun again that she'd allowed to lower slightly. Lameros had noticed but wasn't bothered by it. He needed his information.

"Gone into town? To do what?"

"To assess the Replicator situation and to warn others of our group who have gone surveying in the mines."

"Replicator? What is a Replicator?"

"We have heard there may be… what you call Nannoids on this planet? Possibly beings composed of nannites . We call them Replicators."

He nodded, as if confirming that everything she had said was true. "To warn? Then… you fear them?"

"They have tried destroying our city twice - but you must know all this already?"

"Yes. Yes. Of course… It was foolish of your men to assume they could enter the mine without first asking permission."

"Yes. The man in charge… was not quite himself… we are trying to rectify matters. When he can be contacted, we will be leaving immediately."

"That is good." The man seemed to consider something. "Look, if you encounter any problems, just mention my name to anyone in the town and a messenger will be sent for me… I will leave now and find your Colonel Sheppard... And because my arms ache." He smiled wryly. Though he hesitated before doing so. "At some point, the Colonel is going to discover your secret. I don't imagine he will like it that you have hidden it from him. He _is _your Commanding Officer? It is not something I have come across before. We do not have female soldiers." Teyla was pleased that he wasn't condescending. It was a mere statement of fact. "Though, I believe the Colonel senses the child already. To leave you behind? He is protecting you."

Teyla smiled weakly. She too had wondered this. And was torn, as always. Between telling, or not telling. She hated the deception, but she knew John too well – if he were informed, he would not permit her to go on missions, denying her the opportunity to further seek for Kanaan and her people.

"You know that you can ask the Colonel where the Athosans are? He has that ability."

"How… how do you know… all this?" Her voice, no more than a trembled whisper. It was disconcerting enough that the man could read her thoughts and knew of the Athosans. But his sudden revelation about John?

"Just accept that I do.You have to persuade him to open his mind first." Lameros smiled. "I'm sure you can do that." _Now _he was being condescending. "At the moment, it is clammed shut. Is he always so stubborn? Well, Good Fortune, Teyla Emmagan."

She hardly remembered closing the hatch after he had gone. She was left so stunned. He had even known her name.

And now, after two hours of reflecting on the matter, she could not believe that the answer to her problems lay quite so close at hand. For once, after many long weeks, there was hope. And it made her even more impatient for John's return. Of course, she could not ask him immediately. She would have to wait until they arrived back on Atlantis. And then there was the difficulty of persuading him to accept another Ancient power. Colonel Carter would assist, she knew that. She wished though she had asked Lameros more questions. How could he be so certain that John possessed this particular ability, to sense things across the stars? She surmised it was because Lameros was in command of similar gifts, himself. Who was he, exactly?-

-Teyla stood suddenly.

Alert.

This should not be.

A malevolence had intruded into her thoughts. A snarling face that bared its teeth. Eyes that glinted with the lust of hunger.

But Rodney had said they did not travel to this end of the galaxy. The screeching overhead, however, confirmed it…

The Wraith were here.

* * *

"I'm sorry, but I think we may already be too late." They were covering ground fast and Captain Lameros spoke breathlessly.

"Don't say that!" Ronon called back, with a little anger and a lot of determination to prove the man wrong. He was ahead but only just. Ronon had to hand it to the guy. There weren't many who could keep up. And he was still strapping on the holster belt that held his Replicator gun. His militia sword he'd already replaced, hanging at his back in its scabbard. He'd retrieved his weapons quickly from the cave entrance where he'd left them previously.

"I left them here - I didn't want to scare you," he explained, with a hint of mockery. And that had thrown Ronon for a second. It was the same banter, the exact same manner of Sheppard.

The gun and sword seemed an odd combination. But Captain Lameros was, in Ronon's eyes, a man of contradictions. He was an Liaison Officer, whatever one of those was. A sort of go-between for the Nannoids and local militia, the Captain had explained. But he had a certain something about him that suggested more than a peasant soldier. It was Ronon's guess that here was man, who could be both skilled in any Replicator technology given the chance, and at the same time, handy to have alongside you in a fight. Certainly, if the ease in the way he donned his weaponry was anything to go by. The same quiet assurance of Sheppard. It was weird. Here they were on an alien world. The Captain was obviously of that world. But he could easily pass for a brother or cousin for Sheppard. The same build and height. The same tousled black hair even. But he talked a lot more. And the manner of his talking was like Teyla's.

"I was delayed, you see." They were rounding a rocky outcrop. "My first short cut was blocked by a landslide, so I had to find an alternative. And that was overgrown."

"Don't worry about it. Hey, you found me, didn't you?"

"I was hoping to find more than one of you. I think the first group of your soldiers must have been cut off in that landslide too."

"One's enough!" The Captain was uncertain how to react to this bravado. It wasn't boastfulness on Ronon's part. Just a statement of his abilities.

"I cannot assist you, you must understand, or rather I cannot be caught assisting you."

"Why? Why would you want to help us?"

"I have my reasons."

"And I hate secrets."

Ronon slowed down fractionally, to run along side the Captain, giving him the blackest of looks. How could he trust this guy who was keeping most of his story back? And then his suspicions melted, in spite of himself. It really was like talking to Sheppard.

Captain Lameros appeared little bothered by Ronon's accusatory tone. "Assuming Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay are still alive and we can rescue them, I'd rather explain to the Colonel."

"You know all our names. Does spying come in the duties of Liaison Officer?"

"Yes. I admit I've been watching you." He stopped running suddenly, bent over with his hands on his knees, inhaling deeply for a couple of moments. Ronon stopped too and waited. Impatiently.

"We have to keep moving,"

"Hey, big fellow, it's not easy to run and talk at the same time." And there it was again. Sheppard could easily have said that.

"I don't have a problem with it. Perhaps you should try not talking if you can't keep up."

Lameros pulled a face. A give-us-a-break face. An expression that was Sheppard's. And he wasn't about to admit to being the lesser man either, standing straight to move on again. And talk. Though taking noticeable breaths as he did so. "I wanted to be sure… of certain things… By rights… as soon as I saw your spacecraft land… I should have reported you… It was not of the design of a Nannoid vessel… You were fortunate… If it were not for Quarter Day… execution day… workers would have… been out in the fields… and others would have heard or spotted your crash…"

"You want me to thank you? Sheppard and McKay still got arrested and Lorne's missing in a mine somewhere." Ronon was left thinking that Captain Lameros' aid had come at the wrong time. Just so he could check things out first… Whatever those 'things' might be. The Captain fell silent, duly chastised.

They were hurrying through open grassland approaching the edge of town now. Buildings were scarcely discernible, obscured by the mist of yet more rain. Ronon didn't slacken his pace though the weather was in their faces. The fading light suggested nightfall was not far away. Two or three lights already sparkled at distant windows.

"I fear we are too late…The delay in the mine... Quarter Day is long over."

Ronon knew this to be true but a part of him would not acknowledge it and he would not stop. This had been a disastrous day. In quick succession, he had lost Lorne and his team, Shepto, Sheppard and McKay. The likelihood of any of them still being alive becoming more remote with each passing moment. His only immediate help came from this stranger. Teyla was too far away. And it'd be another day before Colonel Carter would be concerned enough to send another Jumper to their aid.

They'd reached the outskirts of town when Lameros suddenly snapped at him. "Quick! Hide! Militia!"

And half-pushed him into the shrubbery of a nearby garden. Bushes scratched at Ronon's face. He deserved it. He kicked himself mentally. He hadn't been fully alert. Too busy feeling sorry for himself.

Lameros hadn't taken cover. Neither had he pulled out his gun as Ronon had.

"What about you?" Ronon hissed at him.

"I'll deal with it." And the Captain promptly walked off towards voices that must have been some twenty metres away, beyond some buildings and out of Ronon's sight. Ronon wondered briefly if there was even a need to remain concealed . No one might have made any connection between Sheppard and McKay, and the two asking questions in the town earlier. On the other hand… Perhaps Lameros wouldn't want to be seen with him. It would be difficult for the Captain to explain his association with this giant of a stranger, after all.

"Captain? You're out late! I thought Liaison Officers were tucked up in bed by sunset!"

"Yeah. Along with the children!" joined in another voice. Judging from the greeting, Lameros was both well-known and well-liked.

"Who can blame me if I do not know when the sun has set on a night like tonight?"

"The rain has been grim today. Here, have a root, it'll keep out the cold."

"I take two. One for later - if you don't mind?"

The Militia man laughed. "As if I would! And what have their Nannoid Lordships got you working on, then?" He sounded scornful.

"You shouldn't speak ill of them!"

"Pshut!" The Militia man spat. "Hey, if you report me I'll have that other root back!" He laughed again. "They've only got me and the boys running around in the rain with night falling, looking for a spaceship! That's not the fool's errand they've got you on then?"

"No. I've been checking out something at the mine."

"Flooding again eh? They don't like getting their feet wet, do they?" Some of the guard were muttering in agreement.

"Tell me about this spacecraft? Perhaps I should be helping…"

"I dunno. We don't even know what it's supposed to look like. Something like the Nannoids' we guess."

"It belongs to those strangers they tried to execute this afternoon," said a different voice, eager to impart gossip.

"Tried? The ones arrested for the murder of Gavod?" asked Lameros. "What do you mean tried? I was sent out to the mine so I missed the executions."

"Well, like he said…_ tried_," said the first voice, "the axe just wouldn't…you know… eechk," and Ronon guessed he made a gesture to indicate a throat being cut.

"Everyone said it was black magic," said a hushed third voice.

" 'pears they were outworlders and they have this spaceship parked up somewhere. I don't know what my poor departed mother would have made of it all. Six months ago and we were never bothered by Nannoids, aliens and spaceships. Come here, ordering us about and murdering folk-"

"-Where are the outworlders now?"

"Banged up in the Militia House."

"I'd better get there and see if there are new orders for me."

"Please yerself. But if I were you I'd make out like you hadn't met us and get home to that bed of yours. Good night, Captain Lameros!" The voices of the Militia faded into the distance and Ronon came out of his hiding place to meet the returning Captain.

"You heard? Now it is good news?"

"I guess."

"The Militia House is this way." Lameros indicated with his hand and Ronon followed into a murky alleyway. "It will give us good cover. With luck, many militia have been sent to look for your spaceship, which we know they will not find-"

"-You know it is cloaked?"

"Like I said, I have been watching you…" Lameros hesitated slightly and then asked: "what do you think happened…with the axe?"

"I dunno." Ronon had a good idea but he wasn't letting on. "We'll just have to ask Sheppard and McKay when we free them."

"The Militia seemed to think they have some kind of special magic. Then why do they not free themselves?"

That was a good question thought Ronon. But merely gave his stock reply. "I dunno."

They reached the end of the alley. And waited. More Militia men were coming down the street, their boots echoing on the paved ground and their lanterns throwing eerie halos into the drizzly night air.

"Here. Have a root. It keeps out the cold," whispered Lameros. Ronon accepted. He hadn't realized how hungry he'd become and gratefully bit into the offering. A sweet, warming, spicy taste. "It's also supposed to keep the Wraith away."

"The Wraith come here?" asked a surprised Ronon in an equally low voice.

"No. Never. They are just a part of our legends and sayings. Judging from your reaction they truly exist then?"

"Yeah. They do," whispered Ronon with all of the venom and bitterness he felt towards the Wraith. "Do you know why they don't come?" Ronon had been on many missions to other planets and if they hadn't been visited by the Wraith, it was usually down to a some sort of technological device.

"The legends say the Wraith fed upon humans. Until a millennia ago, there were no humans on this planet. Who would voluntarily live here?" He looked upwards into the rain. "We are all descendants of a people called Travellers-"

"-Yeah, I've heard of them."

"Their ship crashed here. It was also carrying refugees from another planet, looking for a safe haven, willing to provide supplies in return for passage. None of them were ever rescued. You know that radio communications are nigh impossible due to the fluctuating e.m. field? The Wraith probably do not know of our existence." The militia had annoyingly stopped to chat, not quite out of sight. Like the previous guard, they were in no great hurry to go looking for spaceships in the dark.

"If you do not have to defend yourselves against the Wraith, why have militia?" To Ronon, it seemed a little over the top simply to maintain law and order for such small settlements.

"In our short history here, we have been plagued by civil wars. There exists a perpetual power struggle between those descended from the Travellers and those descended from the refugees. Food and resources are not always plentiful because of our climate. This is why we welcomed the Nannoids. But it seems to me, that of late, the Nannoids are as guilty of the same greed for power." The militia had now decided to move on. "We'll cross over this street here and follow that alley opposite. It'll take us to the square and to the Militia House. There is an entrance at the back that I can access. At that point…"

"Yeah?"

"Well… at that point… we'll make it up as we go along." It might have been Lameros' voice but it could easily have been Sheppard bluffing beside Ronon in the dark. And he was aware that he'd been following Lameros' lead now for the past fifteen minutes. Just as he would Sheppard's. It had happened all so naturally.

"Sounds like a plan to me!" he said. And they stealthily moved off, careful to keep quiet and low across the street.

Ronon didn't pray. He didn't even know what praying was. But what he was hoping for came close… He knew that ultimately he'd be on his own. Lameros had said he would assist but how far would that go? Only as a guide probably. He couldn't be expected to go against his own militia. And would he be prepared to take on Replicators? And would their guns work against the Replicators anyway? Perhaps for a short time. But perhaps that's all they needed. Like the man said. Make it up as they go along…

And Ronon had other questions turning over in his head. Sheppard and McKay had avoided being executed and that was probably down to Sheppard. So repeating Lameros, why hadn't they been able to escape? Something else had to be wrong. The local militia had confirmed what the team had suspected. Replicators were here and they were called Nannoids. They were here with spaceships, and they were running the mine. And it wasn't good that the Nannoids had sent the militia out looking for the Jumper. Sheppard and McKay had obviously fallen into their hands and although the Nannoids had managed to discover the existence of a spacecraft, its whereabouts had been kept secret from them. Perhaps that was down to Sheppard again. Perhaps he'd also managed to conceal the location of Atlantis. Or perhaps he and Lameros were too late after all…

He tensed.

A familiar screaming overhead. Filling the dark sky. And another.

"What was that?!" cried Lameros, the shock clear in his voice.

"Wraith!"

"This is your humour?"

"You don't joke about Wraith."

* * *

Another vent opening. This was the fifth. And still no way out of this tunnel. It was higher up than any of the previous ones. Or the tunnel floor was declining. So it couldn't be checked out. At least, it threw out light.

"We'll rest here," said Lorne tersely. Simpson was helping Radek now. Lorne knew he should be in the infirmary, resting that back, not here in the cold, constantly on the move. The marine gently lowered the scientist to the floor.

"Ah! Ah! Ah! Slowly!" cried out Radek. Relieved to finally make it to a sitting position, he faintly thanked Simpson. "I'm not sure I should have sat down though, I might not-" Radek was going to finish with, 'be able to get back up again,' but remembered Dr. Chetley.

Without speaking, Lorne unfastened the backpack and handed them a waterbottle and a powerbar a piece. He rummaged in a sidepocket, his hands finding a pack of painkillers.

"Here, Radek, you can take some more of these," said Lorne awkwardly, offering them over.

"You should have some too, Major and get that wound covered,' suggested Simpson, equally uncomfortable with talking to Lorne. No one had spoken since another of their team had been left behind.

"Yeah, later," replied Lorne. Finding a place to sit. Alone. In the darkness. On the other side of the tunnel. Hardly able to conceal a grunt of pain as he did so.

Radek glanced at Simpson, who shrugged. It was ok with him if the Major wanted to punish himself.

Lorne took a swig of water and leaned his head back on the hard rock, closing his eyes. He was exhausted. He so wanted this nightmare to be over. He'd been on missions before and lost men. And some of those losses might even have been down to mistakes made. The wrong call at the heat of the moment. Often it was down to being forced to second guess the situation. And that's what made this so different. He had been supplied with all the info. And chose to ignore it. The words of Colonel Carter kept ringing in his ears. _'I think this may cloud your judgement.'_This was all his fault. This was nothing to do with Sheppard. This was nothing to do with the death of his kid brother. And he remembered the military funeral. And he remembered the hurt. And he remembered the hurt and the hatred. And he remembered the rehearsed apologies to those he had hurt in return. To Radek. To Simpson. To Chetley… All unuttered…

He started at a noise. It must be time to go. Whatever had happened, these guys still relied on him to get them out of this.

"Shepto! It's Shepto, sir!" Lorne struggled to his feet, to see a shadowy figure approach from the direction they had yet to explore.

"M-Major? S-Simpson? D-Dr.Z-Z-Zelenka?" Shepto, stopped, staring at the three of them as if they were apparitions. Lorne wasn't certain if Shepto wasn't one either. Plastered from head to foot in mud with lacerations to his face and hands. He had his arms folded above his clipped on P90 and he was shivering uncontrollably. And there was little they could do to help him. Simpson, cold though he was himself, removed his vest and then his jacket, passing the last item over to Shepto. "Here you go, kiddo." Shepto quickly donned the jacket over his own vest.

"I-I've b-b-been in the d-dark f-for ages. Th-the l-light went out on t-the P-P90. I d-didn't know it c-c-could d-do that." Lorne handed him the last bar and his water bottle.

"What happened?" he asked, guessing at the answer. Shepto found it even more difficult to talk now he was ravenously scoffing his bar.

"C-cave in."

"Same here," said Simpson.

"What were you doing in the mine anyway?" Again Lorne thought he knew.

"C-colonel Sh-sheppard s-sent us. T-to l-look f-for y-you. T-to g-g-get y-you out of here. T-to w-warn y-you th-there's R-replicators in the area."

"That's decent of him," said Lorne dryly. "However, we know already." He limped past Shepto and looked into the darkness.

"You said 'us'? Where are the others?" asked Simpson, in a vain hope that the remainder of a rescue party were waiting somewhere.

"Th-there w-were only two of us. M-me and R-ronon."

"So… where is Ronon?"

"I l-lost…" Sheptoo merely shook his head, unable to complete the sentence. They could feel Lorne tense in the shadows. Another fatality that was probably down to him. He recovered quickly. He wasn't going to be beaten by this.

"You came in the main entrance. What about the guards there?"

"W-we f-found their tracks in the c-cave. W-we think they c-came l-looking f-for you t-too b-but we never c-came across them."

Radek muttered something in Czech and shook his head.

Lorne wasn't about to admit the loss of two more. "So they could still be wandering around these tunnels, just like you?"

"Yessir." With the glucose and some comfort from the borrowed jacket, he was beginning to feel better. "B-but not b-back there, sir. It only leads b-back to the cave-in." He nodded at the way he'd just come. Shepto knew the news wouldn't be received well.

"Dammit! And the mine is blocked at our end too!" spat Simpson.

"Then we are trapped," said Radek forlornly.

"Shepto? In the tunnel, did you see vent openings like this one?" asked Lorne pointing to the light above them. Lorne had been looking ahead, figuring that as the tunnel progressed in a slight curve, it was possible that it followed a circular route all the way round the mining complex.

"Yessir."

"Were they all as high as this one?"

"You're not thinking-"

"Yeah, Radek. So we're not trapped, see. We can get out through the Replicator mine."

"It's not much of an escape route, Major. You ruled it out before," said Simpson

"So what do you want to do? Stay here. And hope some day, someone, will dig through a hundred ton of rock to save you!... Shepto, were the vents as high or not?" he repeated.

"As high, sir."

"Then we go back to the first vent." None of them were relishing the idea. They were all more than weary now. Radek's back was worsening and the logistics of helping him through the vent opening seemed impossible. And then what if they had to fight off Replicators? And what if they were caught? And the first vent was the place where Dr. Chetley had been left behind…

"Simpson? You ok with Radek?"

"Sir." Simpson stooped down beside Radek and helped him up. Radek's face grimaced in pain and he gritted his teeth so as not to cry out. Lorne gave Shepto Simpson's P90 to carry so he at least had a light now, while Lorne shouldered up the backpack.

A white flash.

Lit the tunnel for a second only.

Coming from the vent.

The shock wave from the explosion knocked them all off their feet.

Simpson dropped Radek and half fell on him. Radek yelled out. Rocks rained down, loosened from the ceiling. Lorne yelled 'heads!' covering his own with his hands as he lay on the ground, breathing in dust.

Another bang. And another close on. Shaking the floor. And the rocks dropping all round, pounding on his back.

"What the hell is it?" shouted Simpson from somewhere in the confusion. At first, Lorne couldn't comprehend either. It wasn't another cave-in. And less rock was falling now. And Lorne felt able to slowly raise his head. Three more successive explosions. But distant. Muted. High above the ground. In open skies.

Lorne knew the sound only too well.

Missiles.

Someone was bombing the mine.


	14. Chapter 14

_Many thanks again reviewers!..._

_"What? Wraith and Replicators? Sorta like two bad guys in one movie?" said Ronon. (Well, he would have done, if I could've fitted it in!)_

_But it is the middle of a Wraith Replicator war... true, Wraith could have turned up the week before... or the week after... (perhaps they had to wait for em emissions to drop?... or the asteroid field to clear?...) but then the same could be said for Rising, and for various other episodes all the way through to Midway... but no... they just happened to turn up when the team is there... Wraith are so good at that... just happening to turn up... it's what they do best... after feeding on humans, that is... it's what makes them so dangerous... and you can never tell when they'll turn up... but be sure it's when you least expect... but there is a good reason for these particular Wraith to be here... and it's a little different from the norm... but I'm not telling you here obviously!... you have to read on... to another chapter..._

_In the meantime... _

* * *

Chapter Fourteen

"Oh, _come on_! Untie the hands!" The guard smiled. Taunting. Slammed and locked the barred doors shut. Walking off whistling, swinging the bunch of keys, catching up with his two companions, laughing, no doubt at the prisoners' expense.

"I guess that's a 'no' then," said Rodney faintly, as he watched them through the bars, departing out of view down the dimly lit corridor. He turned round. Sheppard had managed to ease himself into a sitting position against the far wall from the place he'd been unceremoniously dropped in the centre of the cell. His face was screwed up in pain. And his eyes weren't as focussed as they ought to be.

"You ok?" It was the same stupid question he'd asked earlier. But he was genuinely concerned.

"No!" was Sheppard's tight answer.

"How come you're still not healing?"

"I dunno!" That was two things Sheppard was pissed off about now. The persistent stabbing pain in his shoulder and back, that hurt with every breath. And yeah, you'd think it would heal by now. And Rodney's questions when all he wanted to do was rest. And sleep would be good. Even on a cold stone floor. Passing out would be easy. An end to nausea and the whizzing in his ears.

The cell blurred white and misty.

"All spent out, huh?" Sheppard merely grunted a reply and closed his eyes.

_Ha'ashme.__ At the entrance of their home. _

'_Eliosus, you have cut yourself.' Her alarm. _

_He looked down at the gash on his arm._

'_It is nothing. It will heal.' And it does. Instantly. Before she can even send the servant for water, cloths and herbs._

_Her astonishment. __'Husband, what are you?' _

…_But later, her anguish. 'Why did you die? Why did you die?'_

Rodney slumped down beside him. It wasn't easy with tied hands and he scraped his knuckles on the wall, complaining with a loud 'ow!'

Sheppard opened his eyes with a start.

"Sorry. Did I wake you?" Rodney apologised innocently. As it'd been his deliberate intention to try and stir Sheppard. For one awful moment, he thought Sheppard had died. "Only I thought that since you were into telekinesis now, you could perhaps… untie our hands?" Sheppard drowsily closed his eyes again.

Rodney continued talking. He'd always talk when worried about something and he had oodles of that something right now. "So… this thing… you have… must work kinda like the Incredible Hulk, huh? Only when riled?... Well… we need to get out of this cell, you know… Preferably off this planet, even… Before Oberoth finds out we're here…" Sheppard's head lolled onto Rodney's shoulder. One spasmodic jerk seemed to shake his whole body. Rodney was alarmed again. He was positive Sheppard was not breathing. And his mind just couldn't face that scenario again. So he talked some more… to fill up the space with words…"And… and we need to leave before you bleed to death… Right… But you need to rest… I understand…." He remembered Sam. Sam said be more understanding. But she given no advice on what to do if you ended up, tied up, locked up, beside a dead Sheppard.

Sheppard snapped his eyes open.

"No! I have to keep awake! Talk some more."

"Talk?" Well, of course, when someone _asks_ you to talk…

"Yeah!"

"What about?!"

"I dunno! You don't usually have a problem!"

"What do you mean?!" Rodney had taken offence. "So what do you want me to talk about?! It's nice and comfy in here?" he shouted sarcastically.

"There's no need to be like that!"

"And it's all swept nice and clean like! Exceptionally well lit considering it's a place of incarcaration! Which I'm extremely glad about! Coz, as a _rule_, I _like_ to be able to _see _the room I'm about to die in! There are no rats! No creepy-crawlies! No leftover bits of former inmates lying around!-"

"-Yeah, it's just like a Genii prison cell I knew once! All we need is a Wraith next door!"

Rodney stopped dead. How could you reply to that? He could understand that not being a very good memory. No. At least they weren't being tortured as Sheppard was then. Not yet anyway.

"Ok, so you were screwed up then. But in case you haven't noticed, we're still pretty high up on the scale of screwed-uppedness." Rodney paused. Things weren't as bad as they were ten minutes ago, however. He could see that Sheppard was recovering. And he had his emergency plan. "We really do need to escape. And… I have a knife."

"You have a knife?" asked Sheppard incredulously. Partly because he couldn't see how a knife would help much.

"Yeah, you know the rule? You always keep a knife they can't find." Sheppard did know the rule. It'd been Aiden Ford's and Ronon's. Somehow Sheppard had never gotten round to applying it. And was more than surprised that Rodney had. "I thought it seemed like a good idea after getting stuck in that cocoon on the hive ship. If I'd had a knife then, I could have hacked my way out like Ronon did." Sheppard doubted that. "But I don't think I've quite got it in the right place. It's in my left boot. I improvised a little pocket for it. Got terrible blisters at first. It works fine now, though. But, you'll have to, huh, extricate it."

"Extricate it?" Sheppard tried hard not to laugh.

"Yes. That's what I said! Extricate it," said Rodney impatiently. He shuffled around on his backside, ready to offer Sheppard his foot. Sheppard got the idea and leaned forward, feeling round the cuff of the military boot. This wasn't easy. The leather bindings on his wrists had tightened with the repeated struggling over the past couple of hours, and every little movement cut deeper. His fingers, already numb and clumsy from the lack of circulation, were becoming sticky and slippery with fresh blood. He winced. And he thought his shoulder had hurt.

"There's no gain without pain," said Rodney, a little too lightly.

It was a pocket knife. A very small pocket knife. He hadn't the heart to tell Rodney he didn't think it was up to the job.

Rodney, however, satisfied that he'd found the knife, shuffled round a half turn, offering Sheppard his bound hands.

"You trust me to do this?"

"Yes. Why not?" asked Rodney, sounding doubtful, losing all confidence at Sheppard's question.

"You've been watching too many movies. The idea in principle's good, but in reality, the odds are high that I'm gonna slash your wrists."

"Well, at least I had a plan! You can't just untie me, everything is just too tight! And-" Someone was coming along the corridor. Sheppard quickly dropped the knife and sat on it to conceal it. A guard appeared at the door and noisily unlocked it. Behind him stood two further militia guards with Replicator guns aimed at the pair.

"If you know what is good for you, you will remain still," warned the guard with the key.

"Sounds like good advice," agreed Sheppard, amicably, thinking there was little he could do in the way of resistance anyhow with his hands tied and Rodney's tiny knife. The door was thrown open to admit another guard carrying a tray of two steaming bowls of broth, spoons, bread and beakers of water. This was set upon the floor in front of them. The same guard pulled a large knife from his belt and indicated that they should lean forward, and expertly cut their bindings in seconds. The relief of having their arms free at long last was bliss. Rodney was gingerly rubbing his sore wrists. And Sheppard was surprised when he looked at his hands. Apart from the inevitable stiffness, his wrists had already healed. He checked his shoulder. And his… chest. The same. Everything was back to normal. If Sheppard could ever get used to the idea that self-healing was normal.

The door banged shut again. The guards retreated down their corridor but another who'd been standing back in the shadows, supervising the whole proceedings, stood forward. The younger Replicator from the banquet hall. Rodney had been about to reach for his free supper, but froze, staring open-eyed. And the Replicator, in his turn was staring at Sheppard.

"Your wounds have healed?"

"Yeah," replied Sheppard, casually looking across at his shoulder, "they have a habit of doing that… _eventually_."

"You are… you are going to ascend?"

"Might do." Sheppard could see it was clearly bothering the Replicator, in much the same way as the failure of the mind probe. If it gave Sheppard an edge then he saw no reason to correct him.

"You should be set free. There are those of us that also wish to ascend. Holding you captive will interfere with that."

"So why don't you… set us free?"

"No…" There was genuine fear in the Replicator's eyes. "He would not like that."

Rodney and Sheppard glanced at one another, thinking the same thought. Oberoth.

"The key of all is to release ourselves from our mortal predicament. The path is long but the answer often comes from up high. We can unlock that which then binds us. I wish you good fortune."

"Yeah. Whatever." Sheppard hated all that Ascension preaching.

With that he left. Sethon had more pressing things to attend to. He had completed one part of his promise to Callin. To help the Ancients. The remainder was going to prove far more dangerous.

Sheppard stood, picking up McKay's knife and stepping over the tray, approached the door, attempting to examine the lock through the narrow bars, pressing a cheek close to the rough metal.

"I wonder what was all that about?" wondered Rodney. " Now this food's gone cold."

Sheppard had reached through the bars and was poking the knife into the lock, twisting his hand round to jiggle the blade against the lock mechanism.

"Don't you want any?" McKay already had a mouthful of bread.

"Thought we were supposed to be getting out of here," reminded Sheppard, licking his lips with careful concentration. "It was you eating last time that got us into all this trouble."

"Oh that's right! Blame me! And where were your "special powers" a moment ago? You could have at least wrestled their guns from them!"

Suddenly, Sheppard turned and kicked the tray against the wall, sending its contents flying across the cell.

"What did you do that for?!" screeched Rodney, instantly standing, wiping spilt soup from his uniform. He'd always thought Sheppard had a mean streak and this confirmed it.

"You're the genius! Figure it out! And your knife broke!" Sheppard threw it down in disgust, placing his hands on his hips, wondering what to do next.

Rodney stared at his lost meal on the floor and swallowed hard, reaching a hand to his throat.

"You think it was poisoned? Nannites-" he choked. "I'd already eaten some-" He began to cough violently. Sheppard rolled his eyes. McKay turned round, pointing down to his back, to indicate that Sheppard should pat him hard there.

Sheppard slapped him hard across the back of the head instead.

"Ow!" Rodney rubbed his hair, looking at Sheppard blackly.

"Have you figured it out yet?"

"They planned to drug us… though you don't know that… you could just be paranoiac… the Replicator seemed sincere… so you'd be powerless to prevent a mind probe… or our murder…" Rodney could sense another panic coming on. "…which means you can't sleep-"

"I mean to be out of here before then. I still need something sharp to pick the lock… Rodney, what are you doing?" Sheppard screwed up his face in disgust, as Rodney began to unfasten the belt on his pants.

"Christmas present from my niece." He pulled the belt through the loops and handed it over to Sheppard by the metal prong of the buckle. "Apparently, they didn't mind too much if we hanged ourselves," he added bitterly. Sheppard looked at it disparagingly.

"What?!"

"It's too short."

"Fine!" Rodney crossly rethreaded his belt round his waist. "Getting particular aren't we! Perhaps you'd like it if I found you the key! When you consider the predicament we're in…" Rodney clicked the fingers of one hand several times. He was having a light bulb moment.

"_The key of all is to release ourselves from our mortal predicament. The path is long but the answer often comes from up high. We can unlock that which then binds us…"_

Sheppard instantly caught Rodney's drift. "He left us a key!" The two dived for the door, peering through the bars into the corridor.

"Can you see it?"

"No!"

"It has to be up high!"

"Yes, but no higher than he could reach without being seen."

"And… the path is long…"

"Damn!" Sheppard turned and slid down the bars to sink to the floor, resting his hands on his drawn up knees. This was hopeless.

"Did you see it?" Rodney was still searching, all eagerness.

"Yeah."

"Where? Where?"

"Three metres along. What was the point of putting it there?"

Rodney looked down at his friend. "He couldn't risk being caught. And, Colonel Ancient, he assumed you could…" Rodney twirled his fingers around at his temple, "you know, do that mind thing." He paused. Folded his arms. And waited. For a response. Which wasn't forthcoming.

"How about it? I mean getting hold of the key," Rodney prompted, again pointing to his head.

"Yeah, I'm on it," replied Sheppard with little enthusiasm. He closed his eyes. Rodney turned towards the corridor again to watch the key. It didn't budge from its small ledge, between two bricks at head height.

"Nothing's happening!" sang Rodney, looking down at Sheppard again, who'd opened his eyes.

"I can't concentrate."

"Why not?"

"I dunno."

"Look, I needn't remind you we're up against the clock here. It's only a matter of time before they come to check up on us-"

"There's nothing like putting the pressure on."

"No. It's called motivation. And hey! You do it to me all the time!" Sheppard bit his lips. This was going to be awkward.

"Look, Rodney, I've never asked you for much-"

"What?! What brought this on?!" exclaimed an incredulous Rodney. This was neither the time nor the place to be asking for favours. And counting slowly he could already name a million instances when Sheppard had asked for… an awful lot.

"When we get through this-"

"_If_ we get through this!"

"_When_ we get through this, I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention… you know, the axe thingey, the mind probing, all that kinda stuff."

"Sure! I'll be a figure of discretion. Now will you get the key?" Rodney was becoming ultra impatient.

"I'm serious! Do you swear?"

"Yes. I swear. Cross my heart and hope to die – no, no, not that. Scrub that… The key, now?" And Rodney pointed down the corridor. Sheppard took a deep breath and shut his eyes. The key toppled from its shelf and clattered to the floor. And then jumped fitfully across the flagstones as if pulled by an invisible string.

"Is that the best you can do? I thought, you know, we could expect something like… _levitation_. Anything that wasn't taking… _quite_ so long," complained Rodney. With some smugness. Remembering the day when he too was endowed with superhuman powers and could raise Beckett from the ground with little effort.

"If you were quiet, I'd go a lot faster," said Sheppard, without opening his eyes. The key was now past the halfway point.

"Come on! Come on!"

"Rodney!"

"What?"

"Quit talking so I can concentrate!"

"Huh! Now you see how it feels. All those times I've had to fix problems with your constant yammering in the background. 'Rodney, hurry up.' 'Rodney, how long?' Rodney, haven't you done yet?'-"

"Rodney!" There was a pleading in Sheppard's voice that made Rodney fall silent. He was tactless but not that tactless. He watched the key's painful slow progress towards the door. He got to his knees and reached through the bars, stretching his arm and fingers.

"Another hand's length and I'll be able to get hold of it." He strained hard and the key nudged his fingertips.

He couldn't understand what happened next.

It had no connection with attempting to grab the key. Totally out of context. A screeching. And Sheppard. "What the hell?" A loud bang. An explosion surely. And he acted instantly. And instinctively. Instantly dropped the key. Instinctively withdrew his arm, to throw both arms over his head. Instantly threw himself across the floor as plaster and bits of ceiling rained down on them. Instinctively yelled warnings to Sheppard. And Sheppard shouting back. Sheppard ignoring the danger of falling masonry, had reached for the key and somehow twisted his hand round to place the key in the lock. Another explosion. More distant. And small arms fire. In the corridor. Stray blasts ricocheted and clanked against the bars. Sheppard dived for cover beside Rodney.

"This is getting too damn hairy!"

"Irony is, now we want to stay here! I hope no-one is trying to bomb the place!"

"So do I!"

"No! You don't understand! The rock on this world is highly volatile! Something like missile fire could set off further explosions that could rip this planet apart!"

A sudden silence.

Then a voice at the door.

"You know the key is in the lock?"

They cautiously raised their heads.

Ronon.

"We're in the middle of the Wraith-Replicator war here. Better move."

They didn't need telling twice.

* * *

"What the hell happened to you?" asked Sheppard, looking Ronon up and down, noting that he even had mud in his dreadlocks.

"Same question." Sheppard's bloodstained clothes hadn't gone unnoticed.

"Mine first."

It was the sort of debriefing Sheppard didn't like to hear. Ronon could only conclude with three short words, choked out. "No dog tags." Sheppard set his face hard. But his eyes said it all. Men were lost… and that hurt.

"Don't beat yourself up over this. It wasn't your fault." Platitudes. And he wondered who the words were meant for. And _who_ was to blame exactly? Sheppard felt his share of the guilt. He had never wanted Shepto to go on missions. He could have easily put his foot down when Sam had given permission. Shepto was too young. But experience would never have prevented this from happening. Lorne was still missing and he'd had years of the stuff. And even Ronon, himself, had had a narrow escape.

Ronon said nothing and offered Sheppard his vest which Sheppard duly put on. He wriggled his shoulders. His tee shirt was uncomfortable and stiff with dried blood.

"And you? What happened to you?" Ronon solemnly handed him his P90.

"Another near miss…" Sheppard balanced his newly retrieved rifle in his hands. He smiled weakly, in an attempt to lighten the mood. "_Now _things feel back to normal."

If this even could be called normal. They were in the relative safety of a town alley. All around them was chaos. Two alleys away, a bell tolled a deafening strident alarm. Distressed townsfolk were running around screaming devils were at work. Or were busy organizing water bucket chains to douse house fires, that crackled and sparked noisily. The drifting smoke was choking, held down at street level by drizzly heavy cloud. All eerily illuminated by flickering flames. The Militia seemed to be running round like headless chickens. It'd be different, Sheppard guessed, when it was discovered that the two prisoners had escaped and guards had been killed. Even if they were Replicators and the floors of Militia House were now scattered with ball bearings.

They all ducked at the noise of a nearby building collapsing.

"You know, I've probably never said this to you before, but, Ronon, you're kinda handy to have around," thanked Sheppard, when they felt it was safe enough to stand again.

"Don't thank me. It was Captain Lameros who found your weapons."

And Ronon remembered that it'd been Lameros who'd done more than just find their weapons. When they discovered that only Replicator guards remained at the Militia House, he had insisted that Ronon waited at the door while he dealt with them. "Hey, no one fights _my_ fight on their own!" had been Ronon's reply. But it had been Lameros who'd despatched most of them. Except one. Their officer. Called Sethon. No resistance. The two were friends. "Lameros? What are you doing here?" "Releasing the prisoners. I hope you will not stop us?" "No, Lameros." And he holstered his weapon. He seemed in a state of shock. His men not functional. The Wraith attack. "I will help you." Though it appeared he had already. They moved along the corridor. Sethon pulled at Lameros's sleeve. "Something is not right. Council members have disappeared…" "Later, Sethon. We have to get out of here first." Sethon. Respect to Lameros. Looked to Lameros for aid and advice. And Lameros unfailing and prepared to give it without question. Ronon now shared the same respect.

"Huh, no jackets though! We'll freeze!" complained Rodney. Their jackets had been presented to the executioner by way of fee.

Sheppard checked his vest pockets. Empty.

"Even took our radios," he said ruefully.

"Lost mine," said Ronon.

"Not into telepathy yet?" quipped Rodney. Ronon gave Sheppard an enquiring look. And Sheppard gave Rodney a killing look. He distinctly remembered asking Rodney to promise not to mention his powers. And yes, that did mean not bringing it up half an hour later. And not inventing new ones to add to the list. He changed the subject. This was on his mind anyway.

"Yeah, about this Captain Lameros? Are you _sure_ you can trust him? I'm not too sure about this Sethon either." Sheppard glanced to the shadows of the alley where the Militia man was in deep conversation with the Replicator. Keeping his voice low. It wasn't exactly diplomatic of him to start questioning the guys who'd just saved their hides.

"He fought well. And it wasn't even his fight." In Ronon's books, that was good enough.

Rodney looked up from strapping his holster to his thigh.

"You can't blame us for being just a teeny bit suspicious. It was the Militia who wrongfully locked us up. He carries a Replicator gun and wears their uniform. He's friends with a Replicator officer. Are you even sure he's not a Replicator himself?"

"No," replied Ronon. "His story sounds ok though. He says he's a descendant of Travellers who were stranded here."

"Yes, but that doesn't explain why he's willing to stick his neck out to help us, does it? I mean, he's at least gonna get fired!" pointed out Sheppard.

"Yeah, and they execute you here, you know, for eating another man's lunch," exaggerated Rodney.

Captain Lameros returned to their position. Sethon had disappeared into the night and the street beyond. Sheppard felt damned uneasy about that.

But Ronon asked the question for him. "Where's he gone?"

"Remember that he needs my help? I've told him he has to wait."

"And what sort of help might that be?" Sheppard failed to keep the suspicion out of his tone, however much they owed him one.

"Sethon needs to get to Edena urgently. As all the Replicator ships are presently air bourn, I have offered him the use of my space shuttle."

All three looked at him as if they thought they were dreaming.

"Come again? You have a shuttle?" Sheppard's trust rating of Lameros, which hadn't been high, had just shifted down a notch. What else wasn't the guy telling them? And where the hell did a local Militia man get his hands on a shuttle?

"And you're going to tell us next that you pilot the thing too?"

"Yes. So he has to wait."

"But we thought… apart from the Replicators… no one else had technology on this planet," said Rodney looking perplexed.

"And you'd be correct, Dr. McKay. No one else does. Apart from me. It's my little secret. A salvaged craft of the Travellers that crashed here five centuries ago. I discovered it and have spent a decade bringing it back… to life again, as it were."

"Well, that's… er… very commendable of you… very commendable indeed…" trailed off Rodney. First Ronon. And now Rodney, uncharacteristically impressed. Sheppard was feeling decidedly left out.

"Back to our current situation, I have been asking about," explained Lameros. "There has been no culling. The Wraith really did come with the sole intention of attacking the Nannoids. But why come now?"

"Hm, that would be down to us," said Rodney holding up a guilty finger in confession.

Lameros looked at him in disbelief, unable to comprehend the connection between the Wraith, the Nannoids, the fate of the people of this planet and these newcomers.

"More specifically, that would be down to _him,_" corrected Sheppard, indicating Rodney.

"Thanks," said Rodney dryly. He began an explanation. "The Replicators were originally created by Ancients to fight the Wraith. Somehow that instruction in their base code was switched off and remained so for millennia. A few months ago, we were able to switch the system back on." Sheppard could easily joke at Rodney's expense, but he still missed Elizabeth, and the sacrifice of her life was the price they had paid that day. "And the Replicators have been making a pretty good job of it. Of course, the Wraith are fighting back, but the good news is, they're so preoccupied fighting Replicators these days that they're leaving human populations alone."

"Unless they are caught in the middle," observed Lameros pointedly.

"Yeah, there's that," admitted Rodney uncomfortably, his former smugness quickly dissipating.

"I do not understand why you fear… Replicators, as you call them?" It'd been the question he had asked Teyla earlier that day.

"We had an altercation with them. It appears they don't like any association with Atlantis and anything Ancient. They're a little psycho that way. You know, Atlantis? Where we're from?" Sheppard nudged Rodney hard. What had they just been discussing about trusting this guy?

"It is alright, Colonel Sheppard. I know all about Atlantis."

"You do?" Sheppard gave Ronon an accusatory stare. But Ronon shook his head blankly. He had said nothing.

"I am still puzzled, however," continued Lameros. "This does not fit in with our Nannoids. We were told they were created to serve."

"Yeah. Serve. Kill," shrugged Rodney.

"Then they became their own masters when the Ancients ascended. The Ancients always treated them fairly and even actively encouraged Ascension among the Nannoids. Why would the Nannoids then display such animosity towards Ancients?"

"Someone's been feeding you lies," said Ronon.

"Perhaps it is so only in Pegasus." But no-one heard Lameros' comment. Another couple of explosions made them all flinch and lower their heads.

"They have no idea how dangerous that is!" shouted Rodney.

"They're targeting the mine again! Lameros, you still on to show us those other entrances?" Sheppard shouted. Whatever Sheppard thought of Lameros, he knew he was their only hope of finding Lorne and the others. Lameros nodded.

"Right. Let's move out. We'll collect the Jumper and set it down closer to the mine." This was more to Ronon and Rodney.

"Yes. I know the way," and with that Lameros set off.

"He does?" Again, he looked at Ronon, who merely shrugged. Sheppard sighed and indicated to Rodney to follow.

"You ok?" Sheppard asked Ronon.

"Yeah, I'll take our six."

"That's not what I meant," said Sheppard.

"I won't let you down." And that's not what Sheppard meant either. He'd never for one moment believed Ronon had let Shepto and the others down. But he had to leave it at that and jogged after Rodney into the darkness.

* * *

Teyla was understandably relieved to see them. Her smile was short-lived. She threw questioning glances at the state of Sheppard's and Ronon's clothes. Mentally made a note that only three returned. Lameros excluded. She stiffened and she prepared herself for the worst. But first, because she was a soldier, she reported the situation.

"John, the Wraith are here."

"So not news!" said Rodney pushing past her, to take the co-pilot's seat and initialize start up.

Sheppard followed him into the cockpit, his face full of apology.

"We're taking the Jumper to the mine. We still haven't tracked down Lorne."

"Shepto?" She looked to Ronon who came in last. Ronon shook his head.

"It was dangerous. We told Lorne. There was a cave in. I didn't see him after that."

Teyla sat down, beaten. Ronon sat beside her and took her hand. She smiled gratefully at him and regained composure for words.

"I should never have insisted that he came on these missions. It is my fault."

"You stop that! It's no-one's fault!" yelled Sheppard from the pilot's seat as he fired up the Jumper's systems and the engines started with a low hum. "Captain! I need some directions!" The Jumper was hovering. "Teyla, this is Captain Lameros." Lameros smiled forlornly at her as he passed by to enter the cockpit.

"Yes. I know. We have already met."

"You have?" Sheppard raised a quizzical eyebrow to Lameros, who now stood between the two front seats, a hand resting on each. Lameros looked calmly at the HUD Rodney had just brought up. There were so many questions that had to asked. But it had to wait. Practicalities first.

"Hey, Teyla, any chance you can hand out water and-" Teyla was already pulling out the hidden box of power bars.

"You said they were all gone!" protested Rodney.

"It's like knives, Rodney. You always keep some hidden back from the enemy." Not that Sheppard felt hungry. Too many concerns for that. But he knew the lightheadedness would surely kick in soon. He also knew there were MRE's but they just hadn't the time.

Lameros was in the rear again handing out the water.

Rodney started speaking with his mouth full. "Radek would kill us now if he knew we were snacking at the controls-" He stopped suddenly, not even chewing, remembering where Radek was exactly, instantly remorseful and guilty that he could be enjoying food at a moment like this. Enjoying a jibe at Radek's expense.

"We'll find him," promised Sheppard simply.

"No. No. I'm… He just has a fetish. Crumbs in the works…" Rodney took a deep breath, pulling himself together. "You'll need a two o'clock heading, Colonel." The Jumper was already carving up low cloud.

"Teyla! Ronon! Our vests are empty! We haven't radios either. Wouldn't mind restocking?" More orders to the back. And more noises of boxes being moved.

"And Rodney? See if you can get hold of Sam." She had to be worrying by now. But the agreement had been forty eight hours before rescue. It might have only been a surveying expedition but that element added to the inability to make regular check-ins upped the numbers in the danger ratio.

"I… regret Colonel…" Teyla didn't wish to finish. "Our supplies appear not to have been replenished at Atlantis."

Ronon came forward with a handful of powerbars and a few spare ammo clips.

"That's all?" Sheppard took powerbars and ammo, shoving them into pockets. He spared a second to glance back at Teyla. On the face of it. A small thing. But he knew she'd be cut up about this. Shepto. As junior was responsible for restocking the Jumper. Lantean tradition. And he hadn't carried out his duty. Teyla would be painfully aware of the remiss. But Sheppard was aware of something else. It was Lorne's job as senior to double check. Perhaps he'd left it to Sheppard…

"Hey, Teyla! It's no big deal." But they had no field dressings. "Just break something out of first aid."

"The radios probably still won't work anyway!" added Rodney, who'd just made several unsuccessful attempts to contact Atlantis. "Nothing you can do?" He added quietly. "Like on Alora?"

Sheppard shook his head.

"It was coincidence then." And Rodney quietly concentrated on the panel before him. As if nothing had happened. No smugness. No complaints. No taunting. And Sheppard appreciated that.

"A holographic display?" Lameros had returned to the cockpit. "Topographic readout of the mining area? And cloaked whilst flying. Fascinating…"

"Damn!"

They hardly needed the HUD to tell them the location of other ships in the locality. The cloud had cleared. And straight ahead, but below them, with lights twinkling like some distant earth city, hovered two Replicator ships. The HUD was showing a third ship lying beyond them at the same altitude as the Jumper. A Wraith cruiser. Tell-tale gunfire left both Replicator ships, striking the Wraith vessel midship.

Sheppard swerved the Jumper to the right to avoid the ensuing explosion, squinting to avoid the glare of the blast whilst Rodney and Lameros shielded their eyes with their arms.

The Wraith ship seemed then, to drift down to the planet's surface as if in slow motion, like a fragile piece of burning paper ash, belying the fact that it weighed megatonnes, breaking in two before impacting the ground, sending shock waves that even made the Jumper shudder. Sheppard took the Jumper round in a full circle, flying through drifting smoke. Six craft now lay blazing on the ground to the north of the mine.

"Five darts. _And_ a cruiser," observed Rodney. "Not a bad night's work, eh? What's that?" He pointed to the windscreen. A pair of silvery beams from each Replicator vessel led directly to the ground fires.

"Fire suppressant. A foam," said Lameros matter of factly. "If they do not douse the fires quickly, the mine will explode and probably take the planet with it."

"Right." Again, how come he knows so much? thought Sheppard. Sooner or later this guy had some serious explaining to do.

'_Later.'_

Lameros' voice in his head.

The effect on Sheppard was electric. He pivoted round sharply and looked up to the Captain, who smiled back down at him. The Militia man was really starting to annoy him.

"What the hell just happened?"

"What? They're putting out fires," said Rodney oblivious to the odd conversation that had just taken place beside him. Sheppard turned back to his controls. This was unsettling. He hated it when people played with his mind. And too many people seemed to be doing that lately.

In the light of the blazes, could be seen the Replicator mine. A large white squat single story building, straddling a small hill. More of the complex was obviously below ground in that hill. Along with the older mine where Lorne had last been seen. At first, it had seemed unscathed, but a large black scorched hole at one corner indicated that it had in fact taken some serious damage. The Replicators had successfully put out the resulting fires.

"Place to land, Captain?" asked Sheppard, coldly.

"Yes. Of course. You use north and east as directions?"

"Yeah?"

"The last two entrances that I know of are to the north and east."

"We'll go for east then." Away from the battle debris. And the HUD was indicating no further ships in that direction, either air bourn or on the ground.

"No chance of life signs, Rodney?" he wondered about scanning the mine first. Perhaps even picking up Lorne's subcutaneous transmitter.

"Negative. Below us is a near solid seam of Nq2. I'm surprised even the Jumper is working let alone the HUD." Though it wasn't that surprising. He and Radek, especially Radek, were always tweaking the Jumpers' systems and in one of those tweaks they would have ensured minimal electrical interference from whatever source. Having no radios or sensors was a nuisance. A malfunctioning Jumper was life threatening.

The Jumper landed with a gentle thud.

"Better landing than last time!" said Rodney, getting out of his seat. Sheppard agreed but felt there was little to be cheerful about. Before, when they landed on this planet, they had a full team. Now they were down to half. He had to keep reassuring himself that he wasn't responsible. But a nagging feeling told him that wasn't one hundred per cent true. If Lorne hadn't been so pissed off with him, Lorne would have been thinking clearer and would never have entered that mine. He was sure of that. So then… if he hadn't dropped his gun…

"Teyla. I'm leaving you with the Jumper again. Same thing. Keep trying the radios." Teyla nodded. He was more than surprised by her quiet acquiescence. He expected a fight. A well-argued insistence. She must be feeling the loss of Shepto very keenly then. And a part of him hurt that she must have sat in the back of the Jumper sharing her grief with Ronon and he'd been too occupied to be there for her. But still, in her own words, death was always close to her people and usually she would find strength and bravely shrug it off. He felt the thought was callous but they had to be moving on.

"You know, there are Wraith in the area. I can sense them. They must be some survivors from the ship on the ground," she warned. They would have used the culling beams of unharmed Darts to reach the planet's surface. Another reason for her to come with them. Perhaps he should change his mind… But there was little point if she still wasn't well.

They all passed to the back of the Jumper. Sheppard noticed the exchanged glances between Teyla and Lameros. Almost conspiratorial. How come the two had met earlier? He hadn't had the chance to ask. And then, what had they talked about? Sometimes he wished he had that telepathy that Rodney had talked about earlier. He inwardly winced, knowing that Lameros already had and was probably now reading his every thought.

And he still didn't know even why Lameros was with them.

The hatch closed behind them and they were plunged into darkness. The looming shadow of the hill some fifty metres away blocked out all light from the burning Wraith craft. Lameros naturally took the lead, flicking on the light attachment of his gun.

"Well, that's new," said Sheppard under his breath, mildly surprised that a Replicator gun even had a light. And then, a delayed reflex. "Hey! Lameros! Put that out!" he hissed after the Captain. "Do you want to give us away to Wraith!" The light was instantly extinguished.

"He has not fought Wraith before. Or anyone. Until today." Ronon apologised on his behalf.

Sheppard sighed. "I'd better take point, huh?" Sheppard wasn't going to complain if that's what Ronon thought. He caught up with the waiting Lameros. Rodney and Ronon followed.

Lameros pointed to the direction they were to take, his white hand visible in the darkness. Sheppard, in turn, indicated that Lameros should keep his head low, and then ran forward silently and stealthily, hoping Lameros would do the same. Great! Training on the job! With luck, these were all unnecessary precautions. The Wraith were probably miles away, watching their ships burn and awaiting a rescue that would once again be dealt with by the Replicators. And then an awful thought. And he didn't know why he hadn't thought it before? What if Lameros was leading them into a trap?

'_But I'm not. Why would I?_' The voice in his head again.

'_You must have a reason for doing all this.' _Damn! He was answering him back.

'_I was only wanting to meet with you. To talk. But today… you have been very difficult to track down.'_

And the man laughed. In Sheppard's head.

'_This is weird. This like speaking to Ha'ashme.'_ Why think of her now?

'_Yes. The same.'_

'_You know - Crap!' _

'_What is it?'_

'_This is weirder... I sense Wraith... Ahead! In your cave?! How the hell…?' _

Sheppard madly started to beckon to the other two to move back. Their white faces. Alarmed. Showed that they understood. Sheppard pushed Lameros to follow them. There was no cover. Except the darkness. It was a straight retreat.

Except it was too late.

A rustling. A tingling at his neck. With his back exposed he knew he would be the first to be hit.

The darkness flashed blue around him.

And a new blackness instantly replaced that of the night.

His body shuddered as he slammed into the ground.

Not knowing the fate of the others.


	15. Chapter 15

_A humble bow... in gratitude to reviewers..._

_What me?! Shep bashing at every opportunity!! Me?! Moi?! Do I?!_

_But it's what heroes are for! Wraith just turn up. Heroes get bashed and whumped and thrashed and thumped...and bravely face horrifying diverse adversities when all around moan and faint and gnash their teeth in terrible despair and cry laments of 'woe is me!'... heroes say: hey, it was nothing... and shrug..._

* * *

Chapter Fifteen

A flash.

Someone had cried out. And the white blinded. And the detonation deafened. The wall carrying the vent, fractured, peeled off, splintering its layers. Its solidity had been their prison. But its disintegration was far more appalling. There simply was nowhere to run. Black acrid smoke billowed with dust and grit. Choking and disorienting. Somewhere there was heat. Lots of it, thought Lorne. He could feel it scorching.

This was it then.

This is what his life had all been about. And it was ending here. He held his breath and braced himself.

It had to have been a wave of water.

He knew it was he who cried out this time as his withheld breath was punched out of his lungs. The sheer force. The sheer cold. And he couldn't take another. And knew he should. His whole body had lost its weight carried along in the torrent, spun round and round. But the pressure on his face when he so longed to breath again was like the tonnage of a whole, whole wide planet. Pretty damn soon, he was going to black out. Or gulp in that water.

Somewhere Shepto was screaming. He couldn't swim. Muted in the gurgling and bubbling in Lorne's hearing.

Shepto had air.

Lorne kicked with his feet and pushed up, head bursting out to the surface. Instinctively taking in deep, deep gasping breaths, freeing his eyes and face of water, treading water and searching for Shepto. One emergency light. Glimmered orange. They'd been carried down into the Replicator mine. The water was still moving fast. Taking Shepto, flailing with his arms, his head disappearing beneath the surface. Only a metre away. Lorne dived over to him and miraculously caught him and held him up. And that's all Lorne could do was hold onto the young soldier as the two were carried quickly further along. Sucked into what must have been a corridor. A half metre of air space between the surface and the ceiling. The water hit a closed door and swirled them round and round in an angry current. Fast reducing that precious air space by half. And somehow, somehow, Simpson was there, still holding onto Radek. And the water seemed to calm and settle. But behind them, a loud clang. Gantry, that had worked loose, rammed against the entrance to the corridor.

Quiet then.

And they could nearly relax. Their gasps the only noise. Grateful to see one another's faces again.

Then.

A grinding screech. Reverberating throughout the whole mine. They all looked towards the entrance in horror. A grey shadow. As the largest of the mining machinery crashed down onto the gantry.

Blocking the way out.

* * *

Damp earth. Wet grass. Their odour. In his nose. In his mouth and throat. He doubted he'd been moved far from where he fell. If at all. Was that good? Or bad? Good that he hadn't been beamed up to some Wraith ship. Bad because he could sense the close proximity of those who'd stunned him. _Define_ _close, John._ By close he meant that if he opened his eyes, he would see their boots. Even in the dark. And he didn't want to open his eyes. Not yet. You could never get used to being stunned. He was losing count now of the number of times he hadn't seen it coming. Yeah, there was that. The humiliation that you hadn't avoided it. _Again_. And then the semi-paralysis. And then the pins and needles that made ordinary pins and needles blanch in comparison. And then the lethargy. So if he _did _open his eyes, he wouldn't be able offer any resistance to whatever it was these guys had planned. And if this was supper time, he sure wasn't in any rush. Though he wanted to open his eyes if only to ensure the others had managed to escape. He doubted they had. He mentally checked for his weapons. Yeah. They were all gone.

One of the boots kicked him. Hard. In the ribs. Felt even through his vest. He moaned. That was genuine. But he still feigned unconsciousness. He was damned if he were going to make this easy for them. Then his head was prodded with the end of a stunner gun. This was getting difficult.

"Wake up!" And he was sharply hauled up onto his knees, pulled up by the tabs of his vest. He must have been less conscious than he thought. As he nearly keeled over again once up-righted. A sudden rush of blood to his brain. Wraith figures before him, discernible in the dark by the silver of their hair, seemed to dance and spin as his eyes struggled to focus. There were a dozen of them. Nine drones. Three males. Too many to overpower then. Two were in conversation with one another several metres away, at the cave entrance, glancing up at Sheppard occasionally. The third supervised the Drones, ensuring they carried out their bully boy duties correctly. One Drone grabbed Sheppard's arms, and roughly placed his hands on his head. He quickly looked around. Ronon, Rodney and Lameros were getting the same treatment of a kick and a prod. Wasn't personal then. But it was weird that Ronon hadn't been the first to wake. It was that Ancient gene thing, again, he guessed. He was going to have to get used to that. If he survived the next ten minutes, that is.

The others were dragged over and all placed, kneeling in a line. Rodney, beside him, was protesting verbally. Ronon was protesting physically, struggling wildly with four drones. They stunned him again. The way he'd been carrying on, Ronon was either gonna get hurt or fed on, so Sheppard preferred him stunned. Lameros, on Sheppard's other side had flinched. Sheppard suddenly felt sorry for the poor guy. Lameros shouldn't even have been here. This had never been his problem. And this was his first encounter with a Wraith. But did knowing the Wraith make it any easier for Sheppard and Rodney? He knew he could now telepath with Lameros but what could he say by way of assurances? Hey, if they feed on you, it will hurt like hell, but you'll soon be dead? He wondered suddenly if he had a wife and kids.

'_No. I am alone.'_

'_We have been known to escape…'_

'_And you also say…who are you trying to kid? Kid? That is your word for deceive?'_

'_Yeah.'_

'_You expect Teyla to rescue you?'_

'_She'd better not try! She's safe where she is!"_

'_Then… how do you plan to escape? These Wraith… I sense it… have a very strong mind control.'_

Rodney began to prattle nervously, panic clearly rising with each syllable. "You know, Sheppard… not that I actually count these things normally… because normally... you don't have to... though it might seem sort of relevant… but it looks like we're in for the third interrogation today… And…and since these guys are pretty damn good at that sort of thing, a plan would be good right now. Any would do. Hey, even one of your crazy ones!"

One of the planet's moons peeked through thin cloud at that moment shedding light on the scene around them. They were totally surrounded by the Drones. There really seemed no way out. What was Rodney expecting him to do? Knock them all down dead? Could he do that? Kill with just a thought? His pulse had been racing from the moment he came round from the stunner. That was good. That was pumping adrenalin. Now it was going mad as soon as this idea popped into his head. Could he really do this? Did he really have that sort of… power? But Lameros had already voiced doubts, hadn't he? And for some reason, he glanced at Lameros for an answer. But there was no response. Lameros was staring ahead, swallowing hard, fearful at the approach of the two Wraith who'd been standing at the cave entrance.

This was it then.

One was leading. And limping. Badly. Holding his left arm close to his side. Holding, suppressing the pain he was clearly feeling. Injured during his ship's destruction. He stopped directly in front of Sheppard. Tilting his head to one side. Sniffing. Assessing. Examining. Suddenly pushing his face up close to Sheppard. Black, black eyes inches away. Snarling. Drooling. Breathing foul breath. Sheppard stood his ground and did not flinch. A gash on the side of the Wraith's face obliterated his tattoo, glistening with black oily blood. Sheppard just wasn't going to be intimidated. He felt fear. Yeah. It was doing belly flips in his stomach. But he forced words through it.

"Had a rough trip?" The Wraith's eyes flashed darker than ever, taking the remark as deep as any wound. His nostrils flared, pulling back that upper lip to reveal the full set of bestial salivating teeth. If Wraith were truly like vampires, its teeth were too close to Sheppard's neck for comfort.

"Don't…" Rodney had been holding his breath, "antagonise him, please!" Rodney was probably going to regret having spoken. One final hiss at Sheppard, and Rodney now found himself the centre of attention. The Wraith drew up his right hand, the hand with the feeding maw. Rodney pulled back instinctively, allowing half a whimper to escape.

"No!" shouted Sheppard, about to jump to his feet. Two Drones held him down. Sheppard struggled uselessly. The Wraith leered back at him through his silver trellises, black eyes now glinting with wicked humour. He turned back to Rodney. Tracing a line with his long ornamented forefinger down the scientist's temple and cheek. Not quite drawing blood. Not quite.

"What is your name, human?" The last word an insult.

Rodney let out the other half whimper and found a brave retort.

"What's it to you?! Like you want to read the menu first?!" The Wraith smiled and idly began to examine the palm of his hand and then spoke slowly, with clear menace.

"There are three things you should know of me. First. I am wounded. Second. I feel hunger. Third. I need to feed in order to heal. I am, therefore, from your point of view, the most dangerous Wraith here."

Rodney's teeth were chattering, nearly preventing his response. "That's…that's four things." The Wraith snarled with lost temper and held up his hand. Sheppard jerked forward freeing himself from the Drones grasp but Rodney gabbled out the information required of him.

"McKay. Rodney McKay. Dr. Rodney McKay, PhD." And Sheppard allowed the Drones to pull him back into line.

"I have heard of you." The Wraith limped around in a small circle, thoughtful, glancing at his fellow Wraith.

"All… all good, I hope?" squeaked Rodney.

"And the others that are with you? They are also from Atlantis?"

"Atlantis? Atlantis? Can't say that I've heard of the place."

"Hmm." The Wraith was now standing in front of Lameros, studying him hard. He addressed his next question to all of them, however.

"You have a ship?"

So, they were after a ride.

Sheppard promptly answered. "It's broken. Asteroid on the way in. We're stranded like you." He wasn't really expecting the Wraith to buy it.

"But Dr. McKay can repair it?"

"No. No. No can do! Beyond repair," joined in Rodney, nodding. The Wraith ignored him and limped back across to Sheppard.

"And which of you flies the ship?"

"You must have taken a bang to your head and it's affected your hearing," replied Sheppard. "He said the ship's beyond repair." In a sudden fury, the growling Wraith lashed out, ripping Sheppard's shirt with the metal on his finger, tearing the skin at his neck. Sheppard strangled the cry in his throat, lowering his arms to attempt some form of defence. The two Drones clamped him steady again and the Wraith greedily lifted his hand to apply his palm.

Rodney was shouting. "No! No! No! He didn't mean it! Tell him… you're… sorry…" And trailed off.

The Wraith stared. At his hand. Bewildered. And then back at Sheppard. Shocked. Dismayed. His nostrils twitching.

He had been unable to feed.

Sheppard was as surprised as he was. But, hey, if he could stop axes, stop Replicators, why not a feeding Wraith?

"You are… different," observed the Wraith, reading Sheppard's face closely. Something that was unfathomable.

The Wraith, snarled again and pulled himself away in frustration. He had to rouse himself quickly. He had lost face in front of his fellow Wraith. He paced up and down before them, now ignoring the pain of his injuries. His demeanour had altered. His eyes sparked with excitement and a fervour seemed to agitate his white features.

"Why did you come to this planet?" he demanded.

"We don't have to answer your questions," said Sheppard, shrugging off the hands of the two Drones, wincing briefly with the cut on his neck. In fact, he began to doubt if the Wraith could hold them captive at all. When Rodney had his super powers, he had claimed he'd jammed attackers' guns while on an offworld mission. _Could he do_ _that? _Probably not a good plan though. It'd still mean hand to hand combat with nine Drones. And Ronon was still out cold. The Wraith turned to him again with a glimmer of a smile, head held to one side, searching his face intently.

"We might… have a common goal." Sheppard was instantly reminded of the Wraith in the Genii cell. The same mannerisms. The same words. Though then, that proposal had come from Sheppard. And it was never something he was comfortable about. But it worked and got him out of there, free of Kolya's torture.

"As a rule, we don't do deals with Wraith," he replied coldly.

"You were on your way… to rescue your friends?" he looked behind him in the direction of the cave entrance and then back again. Sheppard's eyes narrowed. He could sense where this was leading.

The Wraith continued with a broken gravely voice with the effort of yet more to say. "Your friends… are trapped in the mine. Flooded by Replicators… to put out fires. And the water continues to rise. This rain… today. Delay in their rescue would be… risky? I have guards, not only on this entrance, but on all others. You cannot possibly hope to overpower us. You are greatly outnumbered. I know this. That you came in a… Jumper? It holds few. And some of those are in the mine. Whereas I… can call in reinforcements… at any time. As you know, we do not rely on radios… to communicate." In other words, he wasn't scared off by Sheppard being able to protect himself from the feeding. And he knew then, somehow, the limit of Sheppard's powers. The Wraith still had the upper hand.

"I get the picture," said Sheppard, biting his lip.

"So… back to our questions… why have you come to this planet?"

McKay spoke up. He had also understood the situation all too clearly. And probably thought the question demanded a scientific explanation. "We were looking for the ore-" The Wraith considered that answer to be sufficient.

"-As do the Replicators?" He began to pace up and down again. "You would prefer it if they were not here?"

"They could be a problem to us, yes," said Sheppard.

"They must not mine here. Nor you. You must know that!" He had raised his voice with some insistency though it pained him to do so and he fell back against his fellow Wraith, gasping, clutching his side. He recovered quickly, the other male helping him stand upright by holding his elbow. The Wraith batted him away.

"What are you getting at?" frowned Sheppard.

"Well, of course, they don't want us to get to the ore," muttered Rodney. He had never been able to discover the true nature of Wraith power sources. Not even when, in _that_ alliance with the Wraith, he'd been given free access to a hive ship. But he felt sure the Wraith didn't depend on anything like Nq2. They didn't want this for themselves. They just didn't want anyone else to get any sort of advantage.

The Wraith ignored him. "You have not been to the Planet of the Three Islands?" He looked upwards to that planet's position in the sky.

"Little Alora?" "Epiquaaya?" asked Rodney and Sheppard simultaneously, giving one another a sideways glare round their raised elbows.

"You have been there and not found its secret? If you were looking for ore in this system… I don't understand. Dr. McKay, a scientist of high renown?…" he looked at Rodney, and then in turn to Sheppard, "and you Colonel Sheppard, you do not know either?" Sheppard stiffened. How the hell did the Wraith know his name? More of that mind stuff... Hell! His head was starting to feel like a walk-in library…

"The secret. The secret's in the building. The infinity band running through the structure? You know what it's for?" Rodney was actually getting excited by this and was fidgeting the hands on his head. If they'd been free, Rodney would have been snapping his fingers maniacally.

"You truly know only this much?" The Wraith was mocking them.

"Go on. Enlighten us with the rest. I can see your dying to." Probably literally thought Sheppard.

Just then, Ronon chose to come round. Instantly prepared for the fight he did not finish. You had to hand it to the guy. Two stunner blasts. He must have been feeling pretty groggy but he was straight in there. His struggling was going to serve no purpose and was actually too much of an interruption.

"Lay off, Ronon!" Sheppard ordered with little effect. "Lay off, Ronon," he repeated, "or else they'll stun you a third time." Yeah, he did make it sound like he might actually help the Wraith to do just that. Ronon quietened down, accepting the kneeling position, only grunting when one of the Drones restraining him pulled his hair to hold his head back.

"I will be brief," continued the Wraith, "I would not want your friends to drown during the exposition of this story." He took a deep breath. "When the Ancients came to this Galaxy, there was nothing. They seeded the planets with those of their own form. Many in this star system. But early colonies here failed. As did those in neighbouring systems. They were perplexed. There was no scientific explanation. And then they discovered… Emanii.-"

"An ancient Ancient word for nothingness," interjected Rodney. Sheppard threw him a look that shut him up.

"Hmm," concurred the Wraith. "Emanii. A presence. A menace. A great evil with no form or shape."

"Oh no! Not _that_!" groaned Rodney, rolling his eyes in disbelief. He could never stay shut up for very long. Especially when someone brought up one of his pet hates of evil presences, the stuff of fairy tales to scare small children at night and the contrivance of all science fiction writers. _They think they really exist? For real? _He'd now lost interest in the story before it had even started.

"Just listen to the nice Wraith!" chided Sheppard.

"It was even said that it was Emanii that acted as a catalyst for the Iratus Bug to evolve into Wraith. I cannot say." The Wraith stopped and chuckled at the memory. Disconcerting to the others but Sheppard had experienced the humour of the Wraith in a Genii cell. "But even Wraith sense it and stay away. No Queen can produce her own kind here. Unable to destroy Emanii, the Ancients were, however, able to entrap it and contain it on the Planet of the Three Islands."

_And he had to hear this from a Wraith?_

"In the infinity band?" asked Rodney, starting to consider the possibilities then. "A containment unit? So Radek was right…"

The Wraith nodded. "It required great psychic power but at the time they were mastering Ascension." He chuckled again, though regretted it and coughed with the pain. A second to recover and then he carried on. "And then later, they used Ascension as a means to escape the Wraith!... Ha!... One Ancient in particular was responsible for this. Eliosus."

Sheppard drew in breath sharply. He shouldn't have been surprised to hear all this. But not to have been told by Menos? Or… Or Ha'ashme? They didn't trust him? Lameros. Lameros knew all this too. He was sure of it. But did it matter anyway? He wouldn't have wanted to listen. He knew that. He was trying his hardest to turn his back on Eliosus. But now, it seemed, he was turning up everywhere.

"Eliosus and his followers were appointed to guard Emanii for all time. But Eliosus disappeared and the powers of the remaining Guardians weakens. From time to time, the evil leeches out. My hive has, therefore, taken it upon ourselves to be its new Guardians. The presence of the Replicators, their mining or any intended mining on your part will disturb the already fragile protection of Emanii. We have already once driven the Replicators away from the planet and it was our intention to stop the Replicators here-"

"With one ship? A suicide mission, huh?" That was probably criticism from Rodney but it nearly sounded like sympathy. "You know that you nearly blew up the planet ?!"

"Rodney!" warned Sheppard. Time was passing. He really didn't want any more interruptions.

"We had to defend ourselves," the Wraith explained, "and possessed only the one ship as our resources are stretched somewhat. To meet the general Replicator threat. But you know that…" He didn't give Rodney a chance to gloat. "We cannot merely blow up the mining facility. Any detonation would reach far down into the seam and the planet itself would explode. Debris would be thrown in the direction of Epiquaaya. It was always a precarious position to place the unit but the Ancients needed the power from the Naquadah ore.

We were hoping to land scientists and shut these Replicators down. However, we underestimated them. We were unable to jam their sensors or defences." He shook his head, puzzled by the memory. "Our scientists were unfamiliar with the coding devices. And their ships numbered too many."

"How many is too many?" Sheppard suddenly felt uneasy. And now felt _his _interruption was justified. They'd only counted the two vessels. Which didn't seem to come into anyone's definition of 'too many.'

"Twenty."

"Crap," said Sheppard.

"Twenty? That's OTT, isn't it?" said Rodney, feeling the same alarm as Sheppard. This didn't feel like mining protection. This felt like an armada.

"They defeated us all too quickly and our scientists perished. Before we were grounded, we were able to send out a distress signal but believe it to be unsuccessful. So… this is our… deal? That is your human word? That Dr. McKay shuts down the mining facility. This must be permanent. When we see the Replicators leave, we will allow you your access to your friends. You have an hour."

"An hour to decide?" asked Rodney.

"No. An hour to complete the task."

"I need longer than that!"

"I can wait until morning. But… your friends… cannot." The Wraith tilted his head to one side and looked at Rodney steadily. "So… take all the time you need, Dr. McKay."

"Fine. Point taken."

"Just let our friends go. We'll do this anyway," asked Sheppard simply. It was to their advantage to be rid of these Replicators. And Sheppard hated the proverbial gun being pointed at their heads.

"No, that is not the agreement, Colonel Sheppard. We are, after all, permitting you to go unharmed also."

" Sheppard?" It was Ronon. "What if he's bluffing? What if Lorne got out long ago?" Ronon was never going to trust a Wraith in a million years.

"Yeah, huh?" agreed Rodney. "What if they're dead already?" he blurted out, and instantly regretted his own tactlessness.

"No. No. He's not bluffing," said Sheppard in that quiet voice of his. He was trying his hardest to turn his back on Eliosus. Trying his damned hardest. And then this happened. Out of nowhere. A vision of a black cold place. Churning cold, cold black killing depths of water. No place for human souls to be. His face was turned slightly from Rodney but Rodney knew all too well the expression that went with that voice.

"Another power, eh?" There was silence. Sheppard had lowered his arms and closed his eyes.

And then Sheppard spoke again. Subdued. With more emotion than he cared to show.

"There are four of them." More silence. Only the noise of the injured Wraith's laboured breathing, as he looked at Sheppard curiously. He had never known a human to possess this ability.

"And? The rest? Don't keep us in suspense!" demanded Rodney. He knew it was wrong to single anyone out, but he was secretly rooting for Radek. Though he'd never admit it later.

"It's dark in there. It's hard to tell… It's Lorne… Radek… Simpson and… Shepto."

"Shepto?" Even Ronon had something to be relieved about. "Are you sure?" Sheppard opened his eyes.

"Yeah." But Sheppard felt sick to his stomach. Dammit. There were only four. Half. He swallowed hard. "And he's right. They won't last another hour. Two tops."


	16. Chapter 16

_Thanks Reviewers!_

_The plot thickens... but the soup becomes more of a consomme..._

* * *

Chapter Sixteen

Rodney was muttering. "Altruistic Replicators. Now altruistic Wraith! We haven't taken a wrong turning and ended up in an alternative reality have we?" They were re-arming, selecting their weapons from the pile left on the ground by the Wraith. Ronon said something in reply though Sheppard didn't hear.

"Yes, but… come on! If Emanii is contained why is there still so much evil around still, eh?" Well, that was deeply profound. And coming from Rodney. But now wasn't the time for philosophical discussions.

Sheppard turned to Lameros and spoke quietly.

"You don't need to come. This isn't your fight."

"Isn't it? Which part of protecting the Aloran System isn't my fight, John Sheppard? I need these Wraith out of here."

"Right," said Sheppard with an understanding nod. They'd shared thoughts when released by the Wraith. How Lameros might only be a militiaman, but his family had been descended from the Travellers' Captain. There had never been leaders of Melancia, M12 23D as such. Even during the civil wars, no one had ever claimed sole governorship. But a sort of unofficial responsibility for the welfare of its people had always been handed down through that Captain's family, father to son. And it was a responsibility that Lameros took very seriously.

"And you still need a guide," Lameros continued.

"And we still need to finish that talk."

"Once more, it will have to wait." Which was true. And Sheppard turned his attention to the matter in hand.

"I still say we tackle the Wraith." Ronon was heard to say. His plan from the onset. "They've given us our weapons back, haven't they?"

Sheppard shook his head. "They're waiting for just that. We wouldn't stand a chance."

And where would that get Lorne? Or anyone. Though he would do it. He'd do it if it had to be done.

"You can't…um…use the mind control to knock 'em all down, then?" asked Rodney.

"The collective consciousness of the party would block that - once again their leader would be ready for such a move," explained Lameros. How did he know that? Yeah, he was into mind stuff too …

"I wonder why the Replicators aren't fixing the mine? I mean if they did, they would have to sort out the Wraith first. And then we could rescue Lorne," said Rodney.

"But then we would have to wait. Then we would have to get past the Replicators. Then Lorne and the others could get caught in crossfire. Then the Replicators might find Lorne first. Then we still haven't solved the Replicator problem…" pointed out Sheppard. A little sarcastically perhaps.

"Enough! Enough! I get the idea!"

The subject was dropped and they made their way back to the Jumper.

"How you gonna handle this?" Suddenly, it seemed, Sheppard was putting Rodney in charge. But some things were best left to Rodney and this was one of them. Sheppard and Ronon were just there to offer aid and protection. That's how the team worked. Change of direction. Change of emphasis. And control changed hands. Though Sheppard still liked to think he had the last call.

"Changing the directive isn't necessarily a problem-"

"-You have your gizmo thingey?"

"-Yes, Colonel, I have my gizmo thingey," assured an exasperated Rodney, rolling his eyes, as if talking to a small child. Tapping a vest pocket for confirmation to the very small child that wore the uniform of a commanding officer (well, part thereof now) and yet couldn't get to grips with certain technological terminology. Sheppard pointed to the path back to the Jumper, indicating that Rodney should follow Lameros and Ronon who were already making their way back there.

"As I was saying," talking to Sheppard over his shoulder as they hurried through the tall wet grass again, "changing the directive isn't a problem. I'll just feed them a virus, some misinformation, something like that mining here is no longer viable, which actually might be true. It's gotta be permanent. Not something they can simply override twenty five minutes later with the next merger. Working out the code might be tricky. There's likely to be so many configurations. Failsafes and protocols to override. And the Wraith said they struggled with the Replicator coding here. Everything might have been changed from the time when Eliza-" He stopped himself, and though he couldn't see it, he knew that Sheppard's face had set hard. As it always did at the mention of her name.

"I'm sure you'll figure something out."

"But it's the time limit-"

"Hey, you fixed a Jumper in two hours when you said it'd take a week."

"Yes. But that was under optimum conditions. No. No. Even that's not the problem. No. No. The problem is… the ships. The Wraith believed that if we shut down the mine, the ships will all go home. What if… what if they're not protecting the mine? What if this is an actual base? I mean, if it were that simple to input a code to keep all Replicator ships on their Homeworld, don't they think we would have done it by now? Not _now_, I know. We need them to fight the Wraith."

"I'm sure you'll figure something out. What d'ya need? A terminal, right?"

"Yes! Now you see another problem? Assuming the… the" Rodney struggled to remember Lameros' name, "Lanzaroti guy _does_ know where to go and finds us a control room in the mine? It's likely to be flooded, right?" He could feel Sheppard's frown behind him. "From the Jumper, there was no other evidence of any Replicator building. No HQ. Nothing. No tech. in the Militia House. What if we have to get on a ship? Sheppard! How are the four or five of us ever going to get on a ship? Not on a ship! Please don't let it be on a ship! Sheppard!" Rodney was starting to panic.

"Let _me_ worry about that when the time comes!" The scientist was soothed by that and considered for a moment.

"A stray Replicator might do. If Ronon hasn't shot them all," he said gloomily.

"Now you're thinking!"

"But the last time I, _we _did that, when we had Niam, when we were trying to win back Atlantis, I never actually got the chance to access the base code through an individual Replicator-"

"No. You shot him!"

"It was self-defence! It was always going to be problematic. To find a sufficient low power level to maintain work levels, but not high enough to alert the Homeworld was never going to be easy. An hour might not be enough time…" He had gone round in full circle.

* * *

They'd landed the Jumper to the west of the mine. Lameros had said this was where the main entrance was situated. He had no knowledge of a control room as such. But felt this was a good place to start their search. Sheppard hated this. When he sensed Lorne and the others, he also sensed their exact location. To the North East. In the vicinity of the gaping hole in the roof. Now they had just flown in the opposite direction. He hadn't admitted it to Rodney. But he inwardly agreed. It was doubtful they were going to make it by the dead line.

Teyla had been updated and once more left as guard.

"She is very understanding," commented Lameros as they left the Jumper once more.

"What! You're thinking of hitting on her at a time like this!" exclaimed Rodney, actually overtaking the guide.

"Rodney!" warned Sheppard from up front.

Lameros blinked with incomprehension, not understanding the phrase. "Hitting? Hitting on? No!"

"He means, are you trying to be her… boyfriend? Lover." explained Ronon from the rear.

"No! No! Dr. McKay. I am not hitting her or hitting on her. I merely observed… that… she is a very pleasant lady."

"You know, you and Sheppard really _are _like one another. That's just the sort of denial he'd come up with!"

"Rodney!" Sheppard was protesting this time.

"Have you failed to notice, Sheppard, that you two could pass as brothers?" Yeah. He had noticed. But it wasn't important. And this was a stupid conversation to be having in the dark when they'd got far more pressing things to see to.

"Just apologise to the man."

"Hey, I'm sorry!" Rodney. Without meaning. And forgotten in an instant.

"Sheppard!" Ronon's low warning.

"Yeah. I see them." Or sensed them a minute before. A group of nine or ten Drones up ahead. To their left. Hidden in shrub. Ronon's night vision must be faultless to have spotted them.

"What do we do?" asked Rodney in a loud whisper, searching the way ahead blindly, not being able to see a thing.

"They should let us pass. Keep walking."

Sheppard had hoped they wouldn't come across the Wraith guards to the main entrance quite so soon. They must have been close enough to see the Jumper hatch open and close. No doubt, they were holding back from the building not wishing to be detected by the Replicators.

Sheppard's priority, however, was to find one.

They walked by unhindered. Rodney let out his relief. A low whistle in his breath.

Five minutes later. A lone Replicator guard. Ten metres from the main entrance door.

"He'll do?" asked Sheppard as they ducked behind bushes for cover.

"Ok. This is going to be a lot quicker than we thought," said Rodney, reaching for his gizmo.

"For once." Then Ronon added. "But how are you going to get close enough?" One guard. Standing in a circle of strong white light, illuminated by three lamps above the door. The building might have taken on damage and might be flooded but the power was still on. No way was Rodney going to get there, across open ground without being seen or without the guard raising the alarm and alerting others.

"This is down to me then," resolved Sheppard, standing suddenly. Rodney grabbed his elbow and actually pulled him back down.

"What?! Are you crazy?" spluttered Rodney. "We could always find another."

"Might take all night," Ronon pointed out.

"There's that. And he can't hurt me, right?" reminded Sheppard.

"If he gives the Colonel any trouble, I'll finish him with my gun," assured Lameros.

"I need him conscious - I mean… I mean with his power still on." Rodney grimacing to find the correct word. "How are you going to do that?"

"Watch me."

Sheppard strode out of the bushes and then broke out into an immediate sprint, aiming straight at the Guard.

Forty metres.

And the Guard turned. _Ok…_

Thirty metres.

And the Guard raised his weapon. And Sheppard picked up speed.

Twenty metres.

And the Guard aimed directly at Sheppard's chest. Finger squeezing on the trigger.

_Not so good. _Sheppard sure as hell hoped Lameros was watching his back.

Five metres.

And the Guard puzzled. Numbly lowered his gun.

Sheppard braked hard to avoid knocking the Replicator over. "Hi!" he breathlessly wheezed.

The Guard blinking. Uncomprehending.

Sheppard took a deep breath. He so didn't want to do this... And grabbed hold of the Guard's free hand.

Suddenly. An underwater world. Quietly gurgling. Blue and shimmering. Like a stargate. But totally enveloping the pair. The Guard looked round in amazement. And Sheppard was more than mildly surprised. _Now what?_ Face to face with a Replicator. In a great big pool of water like stuff. With a mind link. He'd much rather be fighting the thing.

"Mind putting the gun down?"

The Replicator, still in a state of shock, allowed his weapon to simply slip from his fingers.

"Now. I'm going to call over one of my friends. I need you to keep nice and calm and still while…" What was he going to say? "You assist him, right? You're not going to harm him in any way. The same way that you're not harming me. Understand?"

The Replicator dumbly nodded.

"It's ok, Rodney. He's all yours now." Wondering if Rodney could hear him.

Rodney suddenly appeared. He seemed oblivious of the watery effect sucking at his body as he entered the area. Probably couldn't see it then. And oblivious to the circumstance of Sheppard holding hands with a guard. Certainly wasn't looking. Pressing buttons on his gizmo. Speaking as he did so.

"How did you know what to do?" Rodney enquired. "Yet more super powers?" He sniffed.

"Yeah. And Elizabeth," Sheppard added tightly. This is how her last moments must have been. When she'd been able to access and control Oberoth. A memory of his final glimpse of her. Months ago now. But it was always going to hurt.

"This is odd…" Rodney. Slightly baffled for a second.

"What's wrong?"

"The coding. It's different. So they _have_ been re-writing it. Perhaps when I last tried this out on Niam, they figured out what I was trying to do…"

"That's gonna be a problem?"

"No." Rodney had confidently shrugged it off already. "Just delays things a little, that's all."

"Don't take all night."

"Yeah, well I _am _aware of the time factor-what?You think there's a limit to how long you can control him?" Rodney. Looked up from his keypad. Suddenly concerned. Though it didn't look like the Replicator was offering much in the way of resistance.

"No. That's fine. I…I just feel like a complete idiot."

Rodney busy again. Waved a dismissive hand at him. "Oh, you mean the holding hands thing?"

"Yeah." Sheppard. Wincing. There was no need for Rodney to be quite so succinct.

"Didn't notice it till you said." Rodney's straight face. Sheppard wasn't sure whether he was lying.

"What are you doing?" A quiet simple question. But… it'd been the Replicator who'd asked it. Sheppard started. He hadn't expected to hold a conversation. But then, he hadn't exactly told the Replicator _not_ to talk either.

"You ok?" Rodney, detecting the movement, looked up again.

"It… spoke."

"Really?" Rodney surprised. "I didn't hear a thing. It must be all a part of the mind control. What did it say?"

"He wants to know what you're doing. What do I tell him?" asked Sheppard, verging on a panic. The Replicator looked sideways, wondering evidently, who else Sheppard was talking to.

"I dunno!" Rodney was beginning to get exasperated, unable to concentrate on his re-coding. "You're the one doing the mind control. Tell him anything you like! Tell him we're trying… to put him to sleep." The Replicator had shown no reaction to Rodney's voice. Clearly, it hadn't heard him either then.

"Overhaul," said Sheppard weakly, nodding in Rodney's direction.

"Oh." A nod and a long pause from the Replicator. "No. You will not be able to do that," he said in a monotone voice, with very little inflection.

"He says you can't do that."

"Huh! Just watch me! He doesn't know Dr. Rodney McKay!"

"You are trying to send us home? Installing a virus to that effect?" asked the Replicator.

"Yeah. That's pretty much it." Sheppard pulled a face. He really hadn't a clue.

"No. You can't do that. We have an anti-virus programme."

"Hey! They have an anti-virus programme!" Rodney's sudden conclusion, simultaneous to the Replicator's announcement. He looked up wide- eyed and very worried. "They must have done that too... after Niam."

"Been busy, haven't they? Can you override it?" asked Sheppard.

"No. Yes. No. I mean I can but it'll take hours. It doesn't help that it's in a different base coding."

"You will never be able to override it. It was installed against Santal. To prevent him shutting us down." This was weird. Having a three way conversation when two parties couldn't hear one another.

"Santal? Who's he?" asked Sheppard.

"Santal is our leader here."

"Right. You have an anti-virus programme against your leader?"

"He is a re-programmed Nannoid and might revert back."

"Back? Back to what?"

"Like to share?" chirped in Rodney.

"He has caused much harm in the past." Sheppard repeated very much word for word every thing the Replicator had explained so far.

"Ok. Enough with the history. We've gotta find another way then. Plan B. Ask him where the control centre is for the mining facility and let's hope it's not flooded."

Sheppard put the question to him.

"There isn't one. Santal-"

"Yeah. I get the picture." From Sheppard's gloomy reply, Rodney surmised at the answer.

"You'll just have to figure out a way of breaking the virus." Rodney sighed and resumed his work on his gizmo. This wasn't how it should be. Pretty soon they were going to get interrupted by more guards, for sure.

"Why do you wish to shut us down? We are not harming you," asked the Replicator.

"No. No, you're not." The Replicator was just so nice and obliging, it seemed a crime to be doing this to him. "It's complicated…"

"If you return to Edena, perhaps they will assist you. You are an Ancient?"

"To Edena? _They _will assist us?"

"The other Nannoids there. We are programmed to assist Ancients."

"Are you sure you haven't installed a virus, Rodney, because I'm sure as hell think he's talking jibberish!" Rodney waved him with a hand for silence so he could concentrate. Sheppard had a sudden uneasy thought.

"Look, why do you keep calling yourselves Nannoids?"

The Replicator's face showed surprise, breaking from the dead pan expression of the past ten minutes.

"That is what the Ancients called us. After the Nannites within us."

"Not Replicators?"

"I have not heard of the word…" Frowning to see if he could recollect it.

"How about… Asurans?"

"No. That word is unfamiliar to me also."

"Ok…" Sheppard let out a long breath. "Rodney?..."

"Hmm?"

"…These aren't our Replicators."

"What do you mean? These are not our Replicators? Like we have leasehold on them now?!"

"They come from Edena. Wherever _that_ is… And, they really _are _called Nannoids."

Rodney tapped some buttons at the speed of light. "There's no aggression code. Never has been. A code, however, to serve. To be servants." He looked up. Astonished. The truth apparent to him also. "These aren't our Replicators," he confirmed, with a mouth wide open like a fish.

Sheppard turned immediately to the Nannoid.

"So where is Edena?"

"And ask him if there's a control centre there," butted in Rodney.

Sheppard irritably waved him down. "Yeah. Yeah. I'll get to it."

"You have to go through the space portal. You will need a ship?"

"Yeah. We have that sorted. Thanks." They really had got this serving thing off to a fine art.

"A DHD address would be good," suggested Sheppard.

"DHD?"

"You know, the dialling code. The code that tells the space portal which planet to open up a wormhole to."

"Planet?"

"You _do_ know what a planet is?"

"Edena is not the name of another planet. Edena is the name of another Galaxy."

A short silence. While Sheppard grappled with comprehending the info. he'd just been given.

"Crap…" He suddenly felt tired and drained. And released the Nannoid's hand. The Nannoid remained standing, making no move to escape or retrieve his gun.

"Sheppard? What's wrong? He did give you the code?" asked an anxious Rodney.

"This is getting out of hand…"

"What did he say?" Ronon approached from the bushes now that the hand contact had been broken. Lameros had chosen to remain there. Sheppard fleetingly noticed the figure of Sethon by his side. Was he following them?

"I think it would be quicker to stick with breaking the virus," he said wearily.

"I cannot give you such a code. Only ships' captains and those of high rank are programmed to access the space portal. It is permanently closed against intruders." Sheppard raised both eyebrows at the Nannoid.

"You mean you could talk to me the whole time?" Without the mind link?

Ronon grinned. Sheppard turned on him. "Aren't you supposed to be standing guard or something?!"

"As I told you, I am programmed to assist Ancients," reminded the Nannoid.

"Sethon is a top Replicator if you need one," suggested Ronon, nodding back to the bushes.

Sheppard paced around.

"No. No. You guys don't understand! Edena isn't a _planet. _Edena is another _Galaxy. _We need more than a DHD address here, we need a damned zip code too!" Rodney was seldom lost for words. His brain was more than compensating, however.

"But you mean…?" he looked up to an imaginary spot in the night sky where he supposed the Stargate was. Awestuck. Mind reeling with all the implications. "That would explain why it's so much larger than the norm… But a gate capable of dialling another Galaxy? But the power required?..." He snapped his fingers. "Nq2! Do you know what this means!" His eyes turned greedy. "If it's powered solely by Nq2? Just how powerful that makes said Nq2?! And why-"

A sudden look of alarm on Sheppard's face. He pulled Rodney's arm and pushed him down.

Percussion of gun blast at their heads.

The Nannoid inches away. Disintegrated into a deep pile of metal fragments.

Lameros walked over from his hideaway, casually swinging the firearm he'd just used.

Sheppard and Rodney straightened. Rodney still shaking. Sheppard rubbed the sore nick in his hair. He examined his fingers to see blood and glowered at Lameros angrily. "You might have warned us!" His anger shut out the link he had with Lameros so the militiaman was forced to speak out loud.

"You should have held the mind control, a while longer, Colonel. A download was being sought from your Nannoid and he would have had to inform Santal what was occurring here."

"Who the hell are you really? And how the hell do you know this stuff?!"

'_Unlike you, I embrace my powers!' _Lameros too could feel anger apparently and Sheppard heard that one loud and clear. But it didn't answer his first question.

"And _he _won't tell them anything?" growled Ronon, indicating Sethon, still in the shadows.

Lameros turned to follow Ronon's gaze, having momentarily forgotten the presence of Sethon.

"No. Santal cannot touch him. He has the special protection of an envoy."

"So I can't access him either?" asked Rodney. Sheppard was starting to see their options fading fast. And hopes of saving Lorne.

"No. And if Santal has activated a search, I believe you would find it impossible to access any Nannoid."

"Great!"

"Plan B then? Or any other plan?" said Rodney looking at Sheppard for confirmation. Sheppard vaguely nodded.

"Best get under cover again." And they joined Sethon in the bushes.

"You know that you have to go to Edena?" Lameros with the inevitable solution. Yeah. Sheppard was afraid of that.

"Sethon can guide you and can access the Gate. He is in urgent need of reaching Edena as you know."

"And they'd be a control centre somewhere? And by somewhere, I mean somewhere we could reach in say…" Rodney looked at his watch. "…the next fourteen minutes and thirty six seconds?"

Everyone fell silent, knowing the answer. It would take that to return to the Jumper. Sheppard turned away from the others. The light from the entrance door was weak here but he was still reluctant to let them see the defeat in his eyes.

"We can't… It's not just the time… It's too risky."

"It is safe. The Ancients lived there before they all ascended," assured Sethon.

"Ancients?" queried Ronon.

"The ones who retreated through the Gate. When they were stranded on Melancia and could not join forces with the Lanteans against the Wraith."

And whilst Sethon explained, another conversation.

'_You could buy Major Lorne__ some more time.'_

'_I know…'_

'_Why don't you?' _Silence. _'Is it because of Eliosus?'_

'_How?-'_

'-_You seem to fear very little, John. Yet you fear this? You would deny your very own soul?'_

Sheppard began to walk away.

"And where are _you _going?" piped up Rodney. Sheppard continued walking into the darkness. And they looked at one another wondering whether they should follow. Except Lameros.

'_Do you require help?'_

Sheppard stopped and looked back, though he was out of sight._ 'I just think it, right? Only… only I've never done this before.'_

'_Oh, I know you have.'_

'_Don't tell the others.' _He continued to walk to find a quiet place alone.

'_They need to know that you and their friends are safe.' _But Sheppard was out of range.

"He's gone to help Lorne and the others," Lameros explained.

"Alone?" And Ronon instantly made to follow the Colonel. Lameros caught his sleeve to restrain him.

"Yes. _Alone._"

* * *

His mind scanned the mine.

Found them in the semi-darkness. The emergency light now underwater casting a muddy brown glow into the few centimetres of air space left to them. The gurgle and slapping of water. The occasional loud metallic creak from the wreckage. And Lorne's stuttering words of encouragement. Hypothermia. And Shepto with his young slight frame the worst affected, already struggling to keep awake. Simpson held him to prevent him slipping under the water. Too exhausted to tread water and hands too numb to cling to the wall.

_A violent thunderstorm and the river that ran down from the mountain, that on peaceful days irrigated crops in the warm sunshine, where the washerwomen exchanged chatter and laundry tips and the children learned to canoe, threatened to engulf the town in muddy turbulence, sweeping away all before it. The hunters on the slopes were the first with their warnings. The deafening roar was the second warning barely ten minutes later. Panic and screams in the street outside. That the servants ran to and joined. _

_Ha'ashme with the two boys and the baby in her arms._

"_Eliosus?" _

_Yet he sat at the edge of the fountain in the courtyard and played absentmindedly with its water. The roar ceased. _

_And the flood followed another valley through the mountains._

Sheppard's head hurt. To concentrate. In total blackness. This was all in his mind. But the effort felt like he'd searched every damn inch with only fingertips. Exhausted and with every limb aching, he leaned heavily on a tree with his arms, sucking in deep breaths from the ground.

He should have accepted Lameros' offer of help. How come the man knew so much damned stuff?

And the doubt. The constant doubt. What if he should fail? He knew he couldn't take on the Wraith after all. They were beings. Entities. Into mind control of their very own. This was elemental. Air. Earth. Water. Fire. Simple stuff. ABC. So now… how come Sheppard knew so much stuff?

He found what he was looking for. A weak fracture in the south wall. Beyond that lay underground caverns that could still take excess water. Failing that another fissure that would be ruptured by increased water pressure and take the flood to the outside. Both would be good.

And breaking that rock was harder still.

A growl through gritted teeth against the actual physical strain. Drenched in his own perspiration. And the air-splitting crack of the rock like a split in his very own skull. He threw back his head and screamed out. But the tumultuous release of hundreds of tonnes of black water was his very own relief also.

A sudden pain at his chest. He reached a hand inside his vest. Blood on his fingers. Crap! Double crap! And he collapsed to his knees, resting his forehead against the tree bark, panting and shivering.

He checked the wound again. It would go soon he knew. But crap! It hurt. And he knew this was more than a memory of Eliosus…

A few minutes and then he rose shakily, wiping a hand across his forehead, and made his way back to the others. He saw little point in attempting to release Lorne and his team from their trap under machinery. Escape would only take them straight into the hands of the Wraith. That would have to wait.

Sheppard stopped suddenly. Lameros. A ghost in the shadows.

'_How long have you been there?'_ Sheppard wasn't exactly pleased to see him.

'_We heard you… shout.'_

'_Yeah, well… it wasn't that easy…' _He shoved past Lameros, pushing at his shoulder.

'_I could have helped you. You are still weak and continue to fight this…'_

Sheppard turned on him, anger rising.

'_How come you know so much? Who are you?'_ His earlier questions.

'_In this form, Lameros. In another. Omeros. Second son of Eliosus and Ha'ashme.'_

'_Oh hell!__... You guys… Checking up on me, huh?'_ Sheppard began to pace around, pushing a hand through his hair. _'Well, that pretty much explains everything, doesn't it?... So what does that make you? My son? My brother? I'm sorta losing the page here!'_

'_You are angry?'_

'_Yeah! Yeah, I am! My head's been messed about with! And… and since I've met up with you people, nothing has gone right! Nothing! It's been uphill all the way__… Yet, Eliosus!... Eliosus is… was… might be… hell!' _and he stopped out of sheer frustration, hands on hips, facing the darkness of the trees. He calmed down. Spoke quietly with unaccustomed honesty. Perhaps because Lameros was a stranger.

'_I'm not comfortable with any of this… Saving people is great… but it feels li__ke… I dunno... like cheating in exams.'_

'_Cheating in exams?' _

'_Forget it. We have to go.' _And he turned abruptly brushing past Lameros again, who caught his arm.

'_You are hurt?'_ And indicated with his eyes to Sheppard's chest. The patch of blood still shiny on his shirt. _'It is the wound of Eliosus?'_

'_Yeah. It'll heal. We have to go.'_

'_This has happened before?'_

'_Lameros.__ I said I'll get over it.'_

'_You do not think… this is a warning? Along with bad fortune. Eliosus was punished by the Ascendeds, his protection as a Guardian removed-'_ Because he'd stepped over the mark. Interfered too much.

'_You think they're on to me? So what now? You _don't _want me to be Eliosus?'_ He was being as sarcastic as hell but was so riled he was happy to ride along with it. _'Is that it? Coz I think it's too late to stop now! And yeah, it had occurred to me to be ready for when they throw down a thunderbolt or two. Or whatever. But this has started now. Just gotta keep low under the radar and hope they don't notice.' _Hope they could be convinced that he was still John Sheppard but how could they believe that when he was clearly dripping with Eliosus' powers whenever it suited? He shivered. With that someone-walking-over-your-grave-sort-of-shiver. To think they were watching…

'_I can understand now… your reluctance-"_

'-_This has nothing to do with that!'_

'_I am sorry! I did not mean to suggest that you were… afraid… I know you are not a coward… I said the wrong thing… forgive me.'_ And he meant it.

Rustling beside them, in the bushes. And they turned. Ronon.

"You ok?" Doubt in the Satedan's voice. Sheppard's appearance in the half-light. But he could discern more…

"Yeah… fine… We've gotta get going. Captain?"

He now had his back to Lameros, following Ronon.

_"John?"_

Sheppard stopped but didn't turn.

_"I... only wish to help. I have no... hidden motive for being here-"_

_"-Glad to hear it."_

_"Though it is true that I believe your place is with the other Guardians... with Ha'ashme... but I only wish to help... to help you understand..."_

'_Look, Lameros… I'm kinda mixed up here…_ _don't know which way is up… give me time…'_


	17. Chapter 17

_Gosh, I can't have reviewers confused...!!_

_An explanation follows... please ignore if you're not confused... or if you actually like to be confused/mystified... or if you find my ramblings downright irritating..._

_How I see it, is this:(and I suppose the author ought to know but I'm the innocent victim of a plot bunny here! This confusion and ambiguity is nothing to do with me... though I do like ambiguity...) _

_i) Eliosus, as a powerful Ascended,(once an Ancient) 'survived' as dormant DNA, through his descendants, despite the punishment of other Ascendeds. (And probably reincarnated in that line too, though I never actually called it reincarnation as I wanted a more scientific feel to the explanation-this is sci fi after all...) _

_ii)As Alora possessed such a powerful psychic connection for Eliosus, if a direct descendant and carrier of the exact DNA copy (latter-under normal __circumstances impossible, yes, so they tell us, but we're talking centuries apart here and this is fiction so I'm allowed to bend the rules...) i.e. Shep, ever made it to Alora, the DNA with all the accompanying powers were reactivated. (I guess the Ascendeds hadn't expected that to happen... Shep being like a Wraith... and just happening to turn up...) _

_iii)Also reactivated, were powerful emotions, like experiencing the final death as Eliosus, and his memories. The emotions and powers of Eliosus are all interconnected so whenever Shep uses a power in a big way, the poor thing gets the spear wound in a smallish_ _way... but it doesn't kill him as he self-heals... (though, I guess, something might come along eventually that could actually finish him off... who can say?... the author can actually... but...well... she's not saying...) so... and because the author likes ambiguity... is this also a warning from the Ascendeds? That is for you to make up your own mind! I'm not doing everything!..._

_iv)Omeros/ Lameros, like his father, is an Ascended (once a human)who likes to take human form again to help others. But he has probably also inherited some of his father's powers, as, we are informed, when an Ascended takes human form, they're usually not supposed to remember former lives/life... _

_Phew! Now is my soup clearer?!... _

_In the meantime, the story's gone cold... _

* * *

Chapter Seventeen

HUD flashed red. Asteroids. Meteoroids.

Space, as in stars and universes and things, seemed thick with them.

But, to Rodney, space, as in safe areas and gaps and openings, seemed to have disappeared altogether.

"Sheppard?"

"I see them."

Well, Rodney did wonder for the lack of reaction. He swallowed hard. Gripped his co-pilot's chair till the knuckles showed white. And twirled a finger at the windscreen.

"Some evasive action might be good… sort of like now!" As an asteroid version of a skyscraper loomed up black and fast and close.

"Not a problem, Rodney." And the danger veered off to the left. Other rocks moved effortlessly to the left and right, to clear a path for the Jumper.

Sheppard turned to him grinning. "Cool, huh?"

Rodney snorted and resumed stabbing at his data pad, muttering loudly.

"If boys must play with their new toys…" Comment aside, he was starting to feel redundant. Though Sheppard could never attempt what was on the screen before him. Difficult even for Earth's top 'gate scientist. And yeah, he did consider himself better than Sam on that score. To establish a communications link from the Jumper to another Galaxy. To reconfigure the Jumper's dialling system to recognise an eight chevron dialling sequence. And all from data stored in his memory. This sort of stuff was never intended for Jumper missions and lay behind in Atlantis. This had to be a first. An historic moment. Much like the time they first left Earth for Pegasus. But the only ones to witness it were a Nannoid, a peasant militia man and Sheppard. And the latter he knew was never going to give him any credit at a later date.

There was no Ronon. He'd been left behind with Teyla. Growling his protest. But someone had to watch the Wraith and be ready to rescue Lorne. And Teyla couldn't be expected to do that alone. That had been Sheppard's main argument. But his eyes said something else. Rodney knew Sheppard well enough to know that. Leaving Ronon behind meant one less life put at risk. And someone had to stick around and tell Atlantis… if they never made it back…

Rodney tried to blank out those risks. His strong sense of self preservation. Sethon assured them that sufficient power lay in the Gate's own Nq2 to allow through their transmission. That the Nannoids would recognize his ID code and power up a viable wormhole for the Jumper to pass safely through to Edena.

Well, they were going to find out soon. In a matter of seconds, in fact.

"Rodney? Sethon?" Sheppard more serious now, staring ahead at the empty stargate directly before them, concentrating on holding the Jumper steady before entry.

Rodney gave up his seat to Sethon who began dialling immediately. He had been unfamiliar with their equipment, so Rodney had already taken him through a dry run. Rodney in the back seat held his datapad on his lap, monitoring power levels, alternating his gaze from the screen to the chevrons locking in position one by one. All three humans were holding their breath. And perhaps Sethon was even doing the Nannoid equivalent.

Once completed and the event horizon shimmered blue before them, Sethon turned to Sheppard.

"I'll input my ID now." Sheppard nodded. And Sethon pushed yet more buttons.

"Okaaaay…Transmission going through… now… And we have a confirmation. So far, so good." Rodney allowed a crooked smile and shifted in his seat. One final check on data before giving Sheppard the go ahead. This was not a little exciting.

Suddenly, Rodney held up a hand.

"Whoa!"

"What?!"

"Insufficient power levels!"

"Why?" Sheppard.

"I don't know!"

"Well, find out!"

"There you go with the unreasonable demands again! How am I supposed to 'find out' when everything is being controlled from… _what_… half a _galaxy_ away?"

"The fluctuations in the e.m. have perhaps interfered with your instrumentation?" suggested Lameros. "I have experienced this myself sometimes."

"You think it is safe to go through?" asked a doubtful Sheppard, twisting his lips.

"Oh no. No. No. No. It'd be like playing Russian roulette!" protested Rodney.

"I am not a Ship's Captain," spoke up Sethon, "but I know that our ships possess auxiliary Nq2 generators for just such an occasion. The occurrence of these depletions in power cannot be rare, therefore."

"Then I expect it _is_ everything to do with the said e.m. in the area," concluded Rodney gloomily. "If we have insufficient power, Sheppard, we have to abort." Rodney was thinking disintegrating molecules and not getting reassembled again on the other side.

"It's ok. I'm on it."

"What?" All three looked at Sheppard in surprise.

"Moving asteroids is one thing, but if you think you can overcome every law of physics and summon up power-"

"-Don't have to, Rodney. Just a shield around the Gate. Against e.m." And Sheppard closed his eyes.

"Just a shield?..." And Rodney blinked incredulously. So wanting to explain to Sheppard what sort of power that in itself would entail.

"Check your readings, Rodney. What do we have now?" Rodney dutifully looked down at his screen.

"Yeah… Yeah…" And he grudgingly waved him on. "You're good to go." The Jumper edged its way closer to the event horizon. Sheppard's eyes were still closed.

"Flying blind, eh?" And Rodney instinctively closed his eyes also.

* * *

"I will escape, Passandra. Have I not always said so? Have I not always said that my day will come. Well, it is soon now. Soon.

Thy powers are weak in this Galaxy. Away from Alora. How long can thou continue thus? So thou bringst me here, to Edena, away from humans, believing I could not even touch the Replicators? But thou knowst I have done that already. Santal soon fell under my… spell. And I have released him into Pegasus. And through him, I shall be touching all humankind.

I will escape, Passandra. I am watching. Every second. Every hour. Every crack. Every weak point. I will escape and conquer all.

Of course, if thou were to re-unite me with the rest of my kind… I might be lenient. Are thou not tempted? Would thou not like to see the other Guardians again? Thy mother, perhaps? Omeros, thy brother? Thou could be with him, even though he masquerades as Captain Lameros these days. Ah, silly me! For a millennia, it is what thou hast longed for… what thou hast yearned for...

Are not thou even slightly tempted?

Do not be too long with thy answer, Passandra. Thou knowst there is another who approaches who will most ably suit my needs. What? Thou thinkst thou can protect him? Do not even think it! The man is a fool! Given all the powers of Eliosus - oh, that's thy ever doting, ever loving, ever _missing _father, is it not? – given all the powers of Eliosus and he turns his back on them.

Do not be too long with your answer, Passandra. And I may spare him also."

* * *

"Well, it looks no different to Pegasus," noted Sheppard, checking the HUD and looking through the screen. But it was freaking him out all the same. Light years away from Atlantis. Neither Rodney nor the Jumper's systems had been able to calculate the numbers exactly. Off the clock. Off the radar.

"Nor the Milky Way, though I'm not sure that's a relief," joined in Rodney. He was feeding co-ordinates for the principal Nannoid city provided by Sethon into navigation. They'd just by-passed one planet since leaving the gate and had another two to go but at least they were heading for a location in the same solar system. "Anything else we should know about? No marauding monsters with three heads? No slimy giants of flesh ingesting toads?" asked Rodney.

"No. Only Nannoids live here," replied Sethon.

"You mean nothing but Replicators for miles and miles… and miles?"

"Sort of place to retire to," said Sheppard, remembering the built-to-serve programme.

"No. Not enough of an adrenalin rush for you, Sheppard." He glanced at the pilot. And noticed what looked like fresh blood on his tee shirt. The old wound must have opened up. He hadn't noticed it before and Sheppard didn't seem bothered. Hero types. And no wonder the military like to wear black…

The HUD brought up a three-dimensional image of their destination.

Sheppard was relieved just how little Edena differed from Pegasus or the Milky Way. And that there was no unwelcoming welcome committee. Using Sethon's ID meant they were going to have a free and direct access right to the city. Sheppard still cloaked the Jumper, however. Their plan had been to get straight in and straight out. Even a welcoming welcome committee would slow them down. And he could imagine the objections that would be raised if they discovered they were in Edena for more than providing Sethon with a taxi ride.

"Why do you wish to go there?" asked Sethon. It had actually never been explained to him. And, it suddenly occurred to Sheppard, they didn't know the reason why Sethon was in such a desperate hurry to get to the Nannoid city either.

"Got to shut down the mine," explained Sheppard over his shoulder.

"But... we require the ore. The Ancients never entrusted us with the knowledge to produce ZPMs… You are perhaps doing this to keep the ore for yourselves?" He wasn't accusing. These were Ancients. He could never be so audacious. He merely wanted to… understand. To explain his sadness. That Ancients would treat them this way. Perhaps Santal was right… Ancients would never truly allow Nannoids their freedom.

Lameros explained. "No. No. It is nothing like that. Their friends are being held hostage by the Wraith and are forcing them to do this. And this can be temporary."

Rodney pulled a face in the front seat.

"I see. Forgive my suspicions. It is always my duty to aid Ancients in any way."

"Well, technically I'm not an Ancient," confessed Rodney.

"Rodney!" Sheppard felt there was little need in revealing that at this particular moment.

"But the Colonel must be," said a perplexed Sethon.

"Yes. He is," confirmed Rodney.

"Neither of us are," growled Sheppard, if every one was after the truth now.

"Don't go confusing the man - Nannoid," corrected Rodney.

"But he… I couldn't probe his mind," said the confused Nannoid.

"It's complicated," said Sheppard pulling a complicated face.

"Uh uh, someone's gone into denial mode again! He has recently developed some Ancient… let us say, 'tendencies.'" Sethon continued to look confused. Callin had told him to help these Ancients. That it would help towards his Ascension. But one wasn't an Ancient. And the other was prepared to deny that he was. But they were humans, weren't they? So the principle was the same. After all, Lameros was his friend and he trusted him. And something inside told him that if he betrayed that trust, that friendship, then that too would affect his Ascension. But these strangers proposed to shut down the mine. Where did his loyalty to the Nannoid nation fit into all this? He desperately needed Callin's guidance… But Callin was gone.

Perhaps he could dissuade them somehow.

The Jumper was now passing through the iridescent blues of the outer atmosphere of the main Edena planet. A solemn Sheppard glancing from controls to HUD back to controls again.

"How do you propose to shut down the mine? Santal has overridden many of the systems. You will find it difficult. This is why I wish to return to Edena. To warn them that he has usurped all authority, deactivated Council members, amassed ships for his own personal use and intends to take Atlantis."

Sheppard and Rodney stared at one another across the cockpit.

"You mind repeating that last bit again?" asked Sheppard slowly, though he was certain he'd heard right the first time.

"He is planning to take Atlantis, and perhaps the Pegasus Galaxy too."

Sheppard bit his lip. "Ever had the feeling, we're going the wrong way?"

"And we thought they weren't like our Replicators," muttered Rodney bitterly, "And you couldn't have told us sooner? Like we're the ones on the 'And-who's-going-to-be-invaded-this-week?' list."

"It makes little difference, Rodney. Our plan all along was to do this quick. So now…" Sheppard pulled a face, "we're just gonna have to be… quicker. Tell me, Sethon. Once you inform your people, what can they do to stop this guy?"

"I do not know… send more ships probably. Though it would take time."

"Oh, and let me guess, you haven't made them yet!" said Rodney.

Sethon nodded.

"The Wraith said there were twenty ships in Alora," reminded Lameros. "That is the entire Nannoid fleet?"

"Battleship class, yes. We have no need of such a high defensive capacity-"

"-With nothing but Nannoids for miles and miles and miles." Rodney echoed his former comment, gazing down at the browns and greens of a vast continent that was now rolling beneath them.

"But the Lady Emanii persuaded the Edena Council that Santal required so many to fight off a possible Wraith attack."

"Who?" asked three voices together.

"The Lady Emanii. The last Ancient in Edena."

"And it's a coincidence that she just happens to share the same name as 'all that is evil in the Universe?'" And Rodney made the inverted comma signs with his hands.

"Evil?" Sethon hesitated. There once was a time when the Lady Emanii was the most revered and respected of all beings in Edena. But lately… lately Callin believed she was abusing her influence.

And then he nearly missed it. The Lantean, Dr. McKay, whispering to the Colonel.

"…everything…got to shut down…"

"You can?" And a muffled response from the Lantean. And the Colonel looking back, realising they might have been overheard and threw the Lantean a warning glance with the shake of his head.

"Okaaay… enough of this… I believe this is our stop?"

Sheppard was already circling the Jumper.

"Impressive, eh?" Rodney asked Sheppard with another crooked smile. If he had ever any qualms about coming to another Galaxy in only a Puddle Jumper, they'd disappeared now in a rare wave of admiration. On the horizon, a range of snow peaked mountains, streaked lilac and pink in late evening sunshine. And at their base, the plain of a city, white and sparkling, tinged with the same stunning sunset colours. Graceful spires, towers and scrapers. Pinnacles that pierced through wispy crimson cloud. Walkways, squares and plazas. Infinite glass, composite and metal. Infinite sophisticated Ancient architecture.

"Just like the Replicator Homeworld, but better huh?"

"More gardeny." And it was in just such an area of parkland, where Sheppard planned to land the Jumper.

"Gardeny?" Sheppard's choice of words never ceased to amaze Rodney. And to think this guy could have gotten into Mensa…

"Yeah. Gardeny. Sethon?" He needed the Nannoid to guide them to an exact location. As their strategy was to do this unnoticed, they were avoiding the principal centre of the city. Rodney had surmised that some sort of sub station, linked to the main computer must exist and Sethon had, indeed, verified that.

However, there was no response from Sethon. Suddenly uneasy, Sheppard quickly peeled his eyes away from the HUD with its descent readings and glanced back at the Nannoid. The troubled look on Sethon's face confirmed it. He had overheard Rodney saying that if he couldn't recall the ships, he'd try a blanket shutdown of the whole Nannoid nation. If they'd been a table there between them at the time, Sheppard would have kicked Rodney hard on the shins beneath it. Very hard.

"Hey! We've given you a lift. Now it's your turn."

"I… I do not think… do not think I can assist you any longer, Colonel. Certainly not Dr. McKay." For the last five minutes he had been flailing between duty to his fellow Nannoids and something deep inside his programming that instructed him to obey this Ancient. But... the former was winning.

"Yeah, well, him and me, we're a package. Now tell us where we're heading for!"

Still a frightened Sethon looking from one to another. Inside. He felt he would explode. He was effectively going against the teachings of Callin.

Lameros reached across and touched his knee. "It's ok, Sethon. You can trust them."

Sethon stared down at the offered hand. The conflict more intense now that Lameros was involved. The Aloran was lying. His friend was against him too. He could not trust any of them.

Something snapped.

Messages were relayed. Hurried and incoherent. In his haste. To dart forward. To reach for the co-pilot's seat. At least, one could be stopped. His grip was tight. And tightening. At McKay's neck. Sethon was a machine after all. Grip like a vice. Sounds forced out. The Ancient shouting. Trying to raise a hand. To protect his friend. And the Jumper whining as pilot control lost. And the Human gurgling in his throat. Helplessly clawing at Sethon's hands. Eyes desperate and bulging. And other hands. Lameros. Pulling at Sethon's shoulders. A tall building loomed up white and close through the screen. And the Jumper nose dived. And veered sharply to the right. And Lameros thrown to the floor. The Colonel shouting again. "Use your damn gun!" And the Jumper climbed again and Lameros couldn't stand. "Out of ammo!" And the Human's hands began to go limp against his. And Lameros reached up and laid his hand on top of Sethon's left hand. And the world went blue. And silent. Except for the gentle ripple of water. And he released Rodney. As instructed by Lameros. And there were tears because he had failed. Because Lameros had betrayed him. Because Sethon had betrayed Callin.

"Rodney! You ok?" Sheppard was still struggling to concentrate on the Jumper and it lurched again.

"Yeah," croaked Rodney, slowly recovering from his slumped position in the co-pilot's chair. He reached for the dash with both hands for support, gulping in air and eyes watering. And then waved a hand at Sheppard. "I'm… good…You…" was all he spluttered out before a paroxysm of coughing. "You… get this thing… landed… before… you crash it again," said Rodney, again, gasping. Sheppard took the insult without a word. He wasn't convinced that Rodney was ok. He'd gone from crimson red to the palest shade of white in only ten seconds. But Rodney was right about one thing. He needed to concentrate on flying the Jumper. Manoeuvring the Jumper between a series of tall buildings during Sethon's onslaught had been as racking on the nerves as flying through any asteroid field. And then there was Lameros in the back with Sethon…

'_I am fine, Colonel.'_

'_I… didn't know you could do tha__t as well… When…?'_

'_I visited Epiquaaya too.'_

'_Oh.'_

Lameros spoke again out loud, for the benefit of Rodney. "Sethon has calmed down now, Colonel, and has given me the directions you require. Unfortunately, he has managed to warn the Nannoids. Your time here will be limited."

"Great!" Another coughing fit blocked Rodney's own sarcastic response.

"I think it is best I remain in the Jumper with Sethon until you have completed your task."

Great, again. Two of them. Against a whole galaxy full of Nannoids.

No.

It was going to be _one_ of them. He'd decided.

* * *

Rodney had recovered from his ordeal. Not fully. Sheppard had just endured the interminably long run down of all remaining symptoms. And all the symptoms he'd experienced during the attack. And any symptoms he might have had if it'd been allowed to continue. Like… dying. It was just chatter. He knew the scientist always did that when nervous.

They'd reached the last line of shrubbery before a large manicured lawn that stretched to a low flat edifice, fronted entirely of glass. Sheppard stopped suddenly and faced his friend.

"Look, I'm going in alone."

Rodney blinked. Caught in mid-sentence. "Sheppard?" It was dusk now. But enough light to see the earnestness in the Colonel's face.

"You're not going into that building. It's too dangerous."

Rodney was quick to get over his surprise. "And your powers? You now have the ability to fully comprehend all the intricacies of Replicator programming now, huh?"

Sheppard turned away. Worry and concern written all over his face. A quiet honesty. "No."

Rodney was nearly relieved to hear it. Whilst at the same time… he _was_ talking Sheppard into allowing him to stay on a _dangerous_ mission…

He folded his arms smugly. "Then, pray tell me, how do you propose to close down the required programmes if you go it alone?"

"This is… difficult." Sheppard wouldn't even have this problem if they had radios.

"Difficult? Damned right this is going to be difficult!" And Rodney reeled off in his head all the fail safes and protocols he was going to have to crack open in no time flat before he could even consider any shut downs. And then he read Sheppard's face.

"Oh no! Ooooh no! This is where you come up with a plan that involves me… that involves me not liking it one little bit!"

"Keep your voice down, will you!" hushed Sheppard, glancing over his shoulder. "Look, you remember that time with Lucille Cadman-"

"-I knew it! Yeah, I remember that time with Lucille Cadman. And I remember not liking that one little bit!" And the memory of carrying Sergeant Cadman's consciousness in his brain after they were both beamed up by a Wraith dart. And the ensuing threat to his manhood. And eventually, even his life…

"I…" and Sheppard coughed. With embarrassment. Shifting awkwardly. He couldn't look Rodney in the eye. He took a deep breath and with a 'here-goes' expression, quickly ran through his idea. "I could take your consciousness in mine and you needn't enter the building. You simply place your hand on my forehead and I'll sorta start… downloading. You can then instruct me on what to do while.. I'm… we're in there."

For a moment, Rodney was thunderstruck.

"You could do that?" Yet another power to add to the growing list. "How do you know?"

Sheppard merely shrugged. Perhaps it was a stupid idea after all. He'd nearly had his fill of mind control stuff any way.

And then all the implications came flooding in for Rodney. "It's a crazy plan! I think I'd rather risk meeting up with an angry Nannoid! With… with Cadman, I nearly died."

"It won't be for long. And we haven't the time to argue over this. I'm not letting you go any further. And that's an order." Sheppard meant it.

"Always got to be the hero, haven't you?"

"You know they won't touch me. I'll be safe."

"And what will happen to me?"

"You'll be inside my head. I've said that already."

"No. My… um… physical body. I'll be… um… _un_-conscious, won't I?"

"Don't worry, I'll put you somewhere nice and comfy and hidden." Impatience stating to seep into Sheppard's voice.

"Oh, and like where for instance?" glancing around at the darkening shrubbery with the dampness of the evening quickly rising.

"Rodney! We really need to be doing this sorta like now! Just put your hand on my forehead."

And Sheppard stood before Rodney and closed his eyes.

Rodney hesitated. "And we can't do this the other way round? I mean, you touching my head?" Not that it would make any difference to the degree of discomfit Rodney was experiencing right now.

"No. That would... hurt you." That settled that then.

"So this is a kind of information transfer thing?" Another excuse for delay.

"Yeah."

"You get everything? Childhood memories. Phd theses. New math. theories…" _Fantasies._ "Secrets even."

"You shouldn't have any," growled Sheppard warningly.

"No. No. Of course not." Rodney came nearer to Sheppard, squirming, reluctant, face contorted and screwed up, looking at Sheppard's expectant face.

"I can't!" he exclaimed, backing away, wringing at the hand that should be doing the touching.

Sheppard snapped his eyes open. "Why not, Rodney?" A hint of a threat in his tone.

"Oh, you know…"

"No. I don't know." Sheppard did know and was going to make him spell it out. Now Rodney must know how he felt holding hands with the Replicator.

"Yes, you do."

"I don't!-"

" - I can't do that touchy thing!" blurted out Rodney.

"Just put your damned hand on my forehead and let's damned well get on with it! I'm not exactly enjoying this either!"

Rodney made a second attempt, reaching up. Physical distaste still on his face.

"I can't! You're too tall!"

"Too what?!" Sheppard could have exploded. By now, they probably could have been in and out of the building. "Right! I'll kneel!" He gritted his teeth and shut his eyes yet again.

Rodney decided that the best course of action was to close his own eyes and tentatively placed his right hand on Sheppard's head. Like it was the most disgusting object in three Universes.

And nothing happened.

Though Rodney wasn't too sure what was supposed to happen exactly. He was sure that he was still thinking. And still thinking in his own head. In his own body. In his own space.

Sheppard spoke and the two simultaneously re-opened their eyes. "Now I can't concentrate! This is too much like that Replicator thing!"

"Hmmm…. You don't think they got that from the Ancients, do you?" Anything to change the subject.

"I dunno. We've just got to do this… On my mark, from three, then." Sheppard took a deep breath and began a countdown.

And Rodney continued to count, under his breath.

"Minus one, minus two, minus three, minus… _oh_..."


	18. Chapter 18

_Thanks Reviewers!_

___Taking a break now... away for the rest of August... first week without a laptop... after that, try and get back to you as quickly as possible... that's if I can prise myself off the sun lounger... or that you actually want me to update (?) ... won't know unless you keep on reviewing... in the meantime, leaving you all with a nice prezzie of a chapter... yum..._

* * *

Chapter Eighteen

_'No! No! Scrub that! Go for the red button, then… it is red? The one on the right?'_

"That's not working either!" hissed Sheppard.

'_Oh, and you did put that crystal behind the other one, like I told you?'_ accused Rodney.

"Yeah, I told you that I did, didn't I? Why do you think it's my fault?"

'_And why do you think it's min__e, huh?' _This was weird. Rodney in his head. Yet he still felt he needed to speak out loud. Loud whispers though. And they were arguing the same as if they were still on Atlantis. And every minute, grateful that 'they' still were not discovered.

There'd only been the one guard.

'_It's getting late. Perhaps they have a bedtime. You know… recharge their batteries,'_ suggested Sheppard. Rodney snorted loud in his ear.

Only the one Nannoid and he was also afraid to harm or question Sheppard and had even been kind enough to show Sheppard the way. Opening the door for him like he was some grand dignitary.

'_Please, don't let this go to your head!'_ If he could see Rodney's face, he would have been rolling his eyes in disbelief.

And Sheppard had been nice and polite and smiled that charming smile of his so that the Nannoid could never suspect Sheppard's true intentions when he asked to be left alone in the control room. To do his worst.

"We really need to move it, Rodney!" The door had been closed behind him. But it had a pair of square windows at the top and every once in a while, the Nannoid, still hovering outside in the corridor, peered through, becoming more and more doubtful about the 'guest' with each passing minute.

"How about… we try this crystal here… that's the one with the funny kangaroo inscription, remember? And replace it with the one with the pineapple?" It was excruciating for Rodney to be dealing with someone who insisted on naming science so inappropriately.

'_I thought we'd tried that one already?'_

"No, Rodney. That was the one with the Zee."

'_Zed. Look, you're confusing me… that might work.'_ And it did._ 'How did you know?'_

"I dunno… It was obvious, wasn't it?"

'_No. No it wasn't actually,'_ said Rodney genuinely surprised. '_Perhaps we can get this finished now.' _And it felt like Rodney was rolling up his sleeves to get really busy.

Five minutes later and only one more thing left to do.

And then the door slid open.

And Sheppard turned with his back to the console.

A chill.

That made the small hairs on the back of his head stand on end.

And there were three in the room.

The Nannoid looked petrified. And that was worrying enough for Sheppard.

"Get thee gone!" Addressed to the Nannoid. A rasping cackle. A black hooded cloak. That shrouded the darkness of a face. But... there should have been a face. White light from ceiling to floor. Sheppard should have been able to see a face. There should have been a face. And the cloak… drifting. Smouldering. Fragments of black ash cloth. A choking incense. Sheppard was military. And had smelt death before…

Dammit, surely he was hallucinating? It was like something out of Lord of the Rings. What the hell was this doing in a Replicator city? Perhaps he shouldn't have taken Rodney on board. Perhaps he'd gone plain crazy? With these Ancient powers? He was gripping the console tightly behind him. This was real fear though. Should he reach for that last crystal? Or his firearm. Less chance of being seen than his P90.

'_Sheppard? Have you done that yet?' _

'_Uh... little busy at the moment, Rodney.'_

"But he told me it was all in order!" protested the Nannoid.

"Enough of thy excuses!" And the cloak lifted a bony hand, pointing at the wretched Nannoid.

An explosion of a million neutronium pieces. Ear splitting loud.

Sheppard threw himself under the console, protecting his head with his arms as Nannoid shrapnel shot out and ripped out into the room.

'_Sheppard! What's going on?' _

Equipment splintering and shredding, torn apart by flying fragments.

'_Sheppard! What's happening?! For Pete's sake, say something!'_ Rodney clamouring in his brain adding to the chaos.

Metal, like bullets, ear cracking and pinging off walls and lights. Smashing the large windows. Cascading the glass down around him. Pain stabbed suddenly at his thigh and he instinctively jerked a hand down to the wound.

"Ow!" The shard of silver embedded in his flesh of his leg sliced at his palm. "Damn!" He flicked his wrist, more with annoyance than anything. Drops of blood on the glass on the floor.

'_Sheppard! Are you alright?__! Who's there?!' _

With most of the lights out, dusk settled into the room. Along with an eerie silence.

'_It's not so much of 'who,' as 'what.' _From his position on the floor, he eyed up the Cloak, circling before him, half the room's length away, between him and the door. As if it too were assessing Sheppard. He could hear its grated breathing. So it had to be animate. So where was the face under that cowl? It just had to have a face.

'_Ok… _what's_ there then?'_

Sheppard was tired of cowering on the floor. Waiting for the first move from the Cloak. Hoping that it only held grudges against Nannoids. He knew he couldn't make it to the door, but perhaps he could launch himself through the broken window behind him. It was one hell of a risk. Once upright, he'd be fully exposed. And he was already breathless from the pain radiating up from his thigh. And somehow, he had to get hold of either of his weapons. He had a sneaking feeling, however, that fire power of any description was going to be useless against this thing. And he still needed to get that crystal moved. Though it was doubtful anything was operational now.

And it was watching. Watching him with that eyeless face…

'_Sheppard!'_

'_Rodney! Will you just quit?! I'm kinda… screwed here!'_

And the glass crackled at the slightest movement.

Slowly. Painstakingly slowly, he reached for the rifle, clipped to his vest. Not taking his eyes from the Cloak for one moment.

But it knew.

And that bony hand rose…

A white bolt of light.

Sheppard rolled and yelled and stood, firing point blank at the Cloak.

Another bolt. And the P90 was wrenched clean from its clip, out of Sheppard's hands and smashed against the wall.

Without registering the impact, he made for the window.

Another bolt, narrowly missed his head.

Not that way then.

Turned back for the door.

Another bolt.

Stopped that.

And he turned to face the Cloak.

Waiting to be finished off…

Seconds passed... And the Cloak began its silent circling again.Those were warning shots then. It hadn't intended to kill him. Not yet, anyhow. Just showing who's boss. Sheppard leaned heavily against the Console behind him. He swallowed hard against a dry throat. Noticing for the first time, the smarting myriad of cuts on his left arm where he'd rolled on the glass.

'_Sheppard! Tell me what's going on? Is someone trying to kill you, coz that's what it feels like!'_

No kidding, Rodney._ 'Yeah, I think it _is_ pretty pissed off with me at the moment.'_

' _You should try getting out of there!'_

'_Don't think it's going to let me, somehow.' _

'_You know, if it kills you, it kills me too!'_

"So, I am dealing with the errand boy?" The Cloak's voice oddly more feminine now. And a flicker across the space inside the hood.

'_It can hear me?'_

"Dr. McKay. Thou thinkst thou may meddle in these affairs? Hmm… Will not thee finish thy travail, Colonel?" That sounded like a challenge. Damned if he was going to move and oblige.

'_Travail? __It said travail? For real?'_

'_Yeah.'_

The Cloak sighed. "Must I forever do all things myself?" The hand pointed to the console with the open drawer of crystals. Still undamaged. Another white bolt. Sheppard flinched, as blue sparks erupted into the room.

"There! Nannoids are no longer a problem to thee. And they have served my purpose also."

The Cloak moved closer to Sheppard. The flicker like a pool of water now. Like the Stargate. But brown and murky. And feet. Claws like a giant eagle. Thick and strong and leathery, impervious to the scattered glass and debris.

"And now, let's be rid of that annoying noise in thy head."

'_Rodney! Get out! Get out!'_

The Cloak only a metre from Sheppard. A face now. Tusks over grotesque thick swollen lips. The wide snout of a boar. And black, black eyes full of threat and fury.

'_A__nd how am I supposed to do that exactly?!'_

Sheppard inched away, nervously working at his lips. Driving himself into the corner. The Cloak suddenly darted forward to grab him by the vest. Sheppard put up a defensive arm to block the move. A bony talon yanked it back. Took hold of his front. And hurled him across the room to the floor.

'_Ok. Stopped all meddling now! You can let my man go.'_

Winded and dazed. The room out of focus.

But the shape coming right back at him.

'_Get out, Rodney!'_

'_Like I said, how am I supposed to do that?!'_

He turned on his side, shaking the fuzziness out of his head, attempting to stand, but the thing pushed at his shoulder and he was flat on his back again. A claw heavy on his chest. The leaden weight of two men. And five talons cutting through tac vest. Curling round his ribs. Couldn't escape. Couldn't cry out. The breathe went clean out of his lungs. And he couldn't take another. The room a white blur. And now fusing with a brown red vapour.

'_Rodney… release you__…' _Even his thoughts growing weak and fading.

Faint cackle of laughter filtered through. And the claw removed. Though the thing remained close. Stooping. Peering down into his face. Humour that he was so helpless. Stench from the brown red vapour emitted from its nostrils. That Sheppard was forced to breathe in.

But now… now in the haze, the features of a woman, old and haggard.

Suddenly, she was down upon him, sitting astride his hips, drawing aside dirt encrusted skirts.

"All is noise and clamour in thy mind, that I nearly failed to see thy presence, Eliosus. Thou darest come here? To my domain? Ha! But… I have been expecting thee." Wraith-like, she drew a finger along Sheppard's cheek, tearing and burning at the skin. A half-scream was all the agony of his chest would allow him. And a feeling of shame. That she could see his trembling. She gripped his chin, sharply twisted his face from side to side, studying him. And then, with one hand, lifted his head from the back, running the other in mock affection through his hair.

"Thy human form is pleasant enough… but 'tis weak! Poor, poor Eliosus! Trapped in a mortal body. Forever to feel mortal pain. This was done by Ascendeds? Most virtuous of the virtuous! Permitting thee to do their dirty work. Watching. Always watching. And then… when it pleases them… one misdemeanour… one honest error… The punishment does not fit the crime… " Her bony hand went back to his chest, playfully fingering there, and then tearing at the vest straps. "Oh, and there's a heart that beats for Ha'ashme still. How sweet!"

A scream with no sound caught at his lips. A scream with all the horror. A scream swelling through the pounding, drumming of his heart. Like it was his heart that screamed. A last final breath left his lungs and fuelled that scream. A pain like nothing before. Eyes uncomprehending. Mind uncomprehending.

His heart.

There.

In her grasp. Ripped out. By filthy nails.

His heart. There. Dripping. Beating still. Red. Fleshy. Arteries tightening with her pull.

Begging her. Begging her with his eyes.

She laughed. And let it fall.

And he could breath, gasp again. And wondered how.

And she pushed his head away in contempt, standing, flouncing off into the room. Robes now of blue rustling silk.

"Weak! Weak! Not a match for the Lady Emanii, I fear!... Stand now, will thou not? I have someone here who would wish to meet with thee. And thou must be courteous before a lady."

_Yeah, sure. __A dud leg. Half-suffocated and five stab wounds. Heart surgery. Piece of cake. _

But he was forced to his feet. The Lady Emanii's doing? Or Eliosus deep inside? Nothing like being caught in the middle of a private war. Because this is what it was starting to feel like.

He staggered over to the remains of a near-by console and held on for dear life. Fighting the nauseous spin of the room around. Growling tight lipped into every cutting breath. The taste and smell of blood. He should be dead. Eliosus must be doing his stuff. But Sheppard knew he was right on the point of no return.

"Cannot even stand, Eliosus?" The voice younger, but still mocking. His vision marginally cleared. She was forcing him to look. The face before him. So similar to another.

A sudden movement to his left. A length of flex snapped away from a console, snaked and slithered across the floor. Twitched around his ankles. Then spiralled up and up, twisting and twisting, tight and tighter around his body.

"No…" His weak protest.

His arms were whipped up high above his head and the flex continued to bind him, jerking him a metre into air. Finishing with a lashing knot at his wrists that seemed to weld his hands together. And his wrists and the muscles of arms and his damaged chest took the whole weight of his body. He could take no more. The world drummed loud in his ears. And went black.

* * *

"Thou canst open thy eyes now, and see the gift I have brought for thee. Of course… thou must not touch!" And the cackle laughed at its own comedy. It felt like toothpicks used to prise open his eyes. He was still suspended in mid air. Every part of him ached or was in agony so that he longed for the bliss of unconsciousness that had been denied him.

For a few seconds, his mind refused to comprehend who was standing before him.

"Ha'ashme?" A gasp only. Ha'ashme. Trick of the mind. The hag was capable of anything. Transforming all the time. No. No. It wasn't Ha'ashme. A likeness. Sharing her beauty.

"Pa…Passandra?"

How did Sheppard know the name? Passandra. A woman now. The daughter Eliosus had never seen grow up. And memories flooded in. The laughter and squeals of a child pushed high into the sky on her tree swing. The delight at the gift of a first puppy. Corn flour on her face as she helped her mother bake. The out-running of her elder brothers in the long blue grass.

'_Father, what has she done to you?'_ Tears rolled down her cheeks and sobbing she threw her arms around Sheppard, unmindful of any blood. And Sheppard was past caring whether it hurt. It was enough to keep breathing. His own eyes begin to prick. Perhaps it was self-pity. Dammit. He deserved it.

He tried looking down at her, impeded by the line of flex, and his vision fading.

"Passandra? I'm… I'm not… your father."

Passandra released her hold and gazed back up to him. _'Lady Emanii said… you would say that.'_ Sheppard tried to focus on the room. Sure that the hag had gone. So this _was_ a trick. Not Passandra after all.

'_Yes, it is me. Please… she has allowed me so little time. And I know that it is only more of her torture… to both you and me. But please, believe me and listen to me.__ I know that you are hurting and it is difficult, but you will heal soon.'_ She tentatively reached up and touched his side. And knew also she was being answered.

'_My story…but I must speak quickly. I came to Epiquaaya with my mother and my second brother, Omeros, still only children when… our father died. Helus, being so much older, was permitted the choice and chose to stay on Earth. I finished my education on Epiquaaya and learned the path to Ascension, eventually becoming one of the Ascended in my own right. But it was never easy being a Guardian on Epiquaaya.' _Passandra turned from Sheppard and began pacing the room. Her steps as Lady Emanii's, noiseless on the floor beneath her feet. She occasionally scanned his face with an anxious glance. She had little cause for concern, however. Her touch had worked. Already he was breathing easier and his wounds were closing over.

'_I know that the Guardianship has been explained to you. How it was established to protect Pegasus from the Emanii. But with Eliosus gone, their powers were diminished. Even the actual containment chamber was losing its capacity. Strands of Emanii periodically escaped. Most were simply recaptured and placed back. But one day… following a massive outbreak it could no longer be_ _done. Being the newest member, my powers were the strongest and I…' _she visibly shivered at thememory,_ 'took some of the escaped Emanii into myself and passed through the Stargate to the Galaxy of the Nannoids, hoping to contain it there, away from organic life forms. We have been combined, living as one since that day. At first, it was easy to control her, but lately… her powers have multiplied. I have even had to submit to taking her name. And whereas once, there was a time when I was able to guide the Nannoid nation, even to aid them in their Ascension, I now have to stand back and helplessly watch her undo everything that I have achieved.'_

He began tugging at his hands.

'_You will not break lose until she is ready to allow it.'_

She looked wildly round the room, knowing her time was running out and then continued with her pacing._ 'Father… Colonel Sheppard… Eliosus… this is the very last time the Lady Emanii is going to permit me to speak as Passandra. She promised me this and has kept her word.'_

She came up to him. And once more, touched his side. Once more, the tears. Her voice scarcely an audible whisper even inside his own head._ 'From this moment on, I shall cease to exist. I do not fear it.' _

'_I__…I can't believe that.'_

'_I shall always have my memories. She can never take those away…'_ She brushed her cheek against his leg, wiping the tears, looking up again. _'My happiest memories, when we were a family and life was never complicated…'_

'_And I told you…'_ He couldn't bring himself to be so cruel to repeat that yet again. Not now. Not when those memories were as good as his own.

'_That you are not Eliosus? I did not heal you, father. I know that you think it. But I told you that my powers are depleted. Too long away from Alora.'_ She began to walk away from him. Backing away. _'This is accelerated healing, father. Faster than ever before. You are so close now. So close to_ _Eliosus.'_ Her face began to distort. And the blue dress began to fade. _'You can defeat her. Do not give in so easily next time. You can_ _defeat Lady Emanii.'_ The lines of old age. The flawless skin, a dirty grey. The wide beautiful eyes that she carried from childhood, sank into deepened hollows._ 'She believes she is stronger than you. But Eliosus was always the strongest.' _The straight poised back, the stoop of the hag. _'Destroy her forever, father. Destroy her. Do not think of me. Promise me… Promise me…' _

And the faceless cloak stalked the room again.

"Tears, Eliosus? Tears? Not a happy reunion then?"

His anger was quick. He swung on the flex and tried kicking at her with both feet. She ducked merrily out of the way, laughing with her cackling laugh. And passed over to the other side of the room, searching the floor, continuing to mock him.

"Weak! Weak! So weak! Like the struggling cocoon of the butterfly! Thou remembrest the butterfly, Eliosus? Mine other Emanii playing tricks! The Guardians lied to thee again? Oh, and the storm! My Emanii are so good! So good with the tricks!" Sheppard continued to twist in an attempt to break lose. Though all he succeeded in doing was to earn himself two bleeding wrists again. Why was it holding so fast? Hell, was he supposed to be Eliosus or not? Perhaps the Guardians had got it all wrong. Emanii truly was master of him.

"Shh wriggling! Thou perhaps desirest to conserve thy strength! To save thy friends. To save Atlantis. Busy, busy, busy, shalt thy be then!" He stopped. Attentive now. She knew all this. She'd known about McKay. But of course, she had to give her own gloating version.

"How do I know? I allowed Passandra her freedom one last time. I am too kind for mine own good. Ha! And thou allowest Passandra into thy mind. And I am there too! Another trick!" The Cloak stooped and retrieved some small object from the ground. And held it up, rolling it between two soiled black fingers. Scrutinizing it eyelessly. "Ha! And here's another!" Sheppard's eyes narrowed. A bullet from his smashed P90. He tensed. His chest tightened. He didn't need the powers of Eliosus to guess what was coming. The faceless cowl turned his way. It's voice no longer the voice of the hag, but low and full of menace.

"Thou rememberest Private Lorne, Colonel?"

He knew he shook.

He knew he couldn't keep the pleading out of his eyes.

_Please. Not like this._

_Please__…_

The hand lifted…

His head snapped back.

And his skull split into a million pieces. Dissolving into a red-brown mist.


	19. Chapter 19

_Muito Obrigado from Portugal, reviewers and readers!_

_So where were we?... oh yeah... Lorne's still stuck in this mine and needs rescuing... oh, and Sheppard is..._

* * *

Chapter Nineteen

A paleness greyed the sky and said that it was dawn. Darkness became shadows, and trees and bushes took form. Drizzle had fallen all night. The constant dripping and the rustle of foliage in a chill breeze were the only noises to disturb Ronon's watch. Till now.

He pushed himself off from the tree trunk where he may have dozed intermittently. Never deep enough to lose awareness. But always sufficient to throw off any sluggishness. Something he'd mastered in the seven years running from the Wraith.

"Teyla?"

And Teyla woke with a start from her sleeping place, on the ground, leaning against another tree. A second only to gather her senses, to realize it had been Ronon who had nudged her, and her eyes followed Ronon's gaze.

"Yes. I have seen them in my dreams."

A Wraith male and two Drones approaching through the undergrowth, their shapes but dim outlines. She rose to stand at Ronon's side, rubbing her stiff neck, and arching and stretching her back, shivering slightly before taking up her P90, with little hurry. Ronon already held his weapon, but even he did not raise it. There was no threat here. The Wraith were either messengers or checking things out. And Ronon had been watching them most of the night anyway. His expression, naturally wasn't a welcoming one, however.

Suddenly more sounds.

Behind the Wraith, and further, high behind the building, a myriad of lights set in bulky black shapes, silhouetted against the whitening sky. Replicator ships. Half a dozen. Manoeuvring into some kind of formation. Hopefully to leave the planet.

The Wraith halted a short distance away, and also looked to the spectacle above them. And then their attention was back to Teyla and Ronon. The Wraith male, the second in command from the night before, studying Teyla closely as he spoke. She was a stranger to him. And yet… a familiarity.

"The Colonel is not with you?"

"No. He has not yet returned," replied Teyla.

"Though the Replicator ships are already leaving?" Teyla cast Ronon a glance. It was true. Perhaps Sheppard and Rodney should have been back by now. But the Wraith moved on.

"I have come to tell you that we also shall be leaving shortly. A Cruiser has answered our rescue call. I have called off the guards at all the entrances and you are free to recover your friends." He hesitated. Ronon wondered if he was actually expecting thanks. But Ronon threw him a look that was more hostile than ever. Their friends could have been saved hours ago if it were not for the arrival of the Wraith.

The Wraith male made to leave. And then turned back again.

"Our leader succumbed to his injuries in the night."

"And that concerns us because?..."

"Ronon!" chastised Teyla. She abhorred the Wraith as much as anyone, but recognised the sacrifice to honour a promise. The former Wraith leader could have fed on any one of them to prolong his life. And had obviously insisted that no one under his command did so either. Oddly, she believed he deserved respect.

"Before he died, he asked me to tell you that the mine is once again flooded. It appears that the Replicators sabotaged the mine before they left. So, it concerns you, yes. I would suggest that you hurry to your friends' aid."

* * *

There was enough damage to the corner of the building to offer a step ladder of sorts to the roof. Thirty metres up. Ronon and Teyla knew that the large crater smashed into the roof would give them at least a viewpoint down into mine and, with luck, access too.

The first two and a half metres proved the most difficult. Straight up, having suffered hardly more harm than a scratch. Ronon, with his extra height and strength, scaled the wall effortlessly. Teyla, with her slighter build, relied on the outreached hand of Ronon to haul her up as she used her feet for traction. Then, a scramble for foot and hand holds in rubble, made slippery with the rain. Twisted girders for further support.

A precarious ledge for balance at the very top. Both breathless from the exertion. They had already run a half a mile at full pelt. They paused, wiping long damp hair from their faces, for it continued to rain, and peered into the chasm below.

"What do you think?" asked Ronon. Black water. No way of assessing its depth. That lapped and gurgled at the edges. And at large pieces of wrecked machinery. Debris bobbed on the surface.

A black gantry ran round the whole perimeter of the building on the inside, some fifteen metres down. At this corner, more masonry had slid down, forming a slope right down onto the platform.

But there were no signs of life.

Teyla shook her head, pushing down the rising despair. What could they possibly do if they were to find Lorne and the others? With only the two of them? With no ropes or equipment? And she knew that this despondency sprung from her own fatigue at carrying her child.

"You still feeling unwell?" Ronon sharp as ever.

Teyla sighed. She did not wish to surrender to this. Not when lives were at stake.

"I merely wish that the others were here to assist. Perhaps we should wait a while longer?"

Ronon turned away. His face set hard. "That might be a long time."

"Perhaps not for Rodney and John. A few more hours and Colonel Carter will surely send another Jumper to see what has become of us all?"

"Teyla…" How could he explain this to her? Straight as always. "They need saving now. And now, we're all they've got."

"Very well, we'll try calling then." Ronon nodded. And let out a hefty, 'Lorne!' followed by a long 'halloo!' echoing around the enormous building. No response.

"We are in the correct place?" asked Teyla.

"Yeah. Sheppard said a corridor, leading off this corner. It must run underground behind us… I'll get down there and call again." And he was gone, slithering down the broken remains of the building to eventually land on all fours on the gantry. He stood upright, surprised to find Teyla at his side. But before he could say anything, they heard shouting, coming from beneath them. Ronon stretched over the rail, looking down to return the cry.

"Lorne!" He noticed a large piece of machinery wedged under the platform. A toppled crane or something. But beyond that he could see nothing.

"Ronon! Here! We're in here!" Not Lorne's voice. But someone, anyhow.

"I'm coming!" He threw off his coat in an instant. And kicked off his boots. Teyla was leaning over the rail, trying to see a way through.

"I cannot see what we can do to help. If they are trapped…" She hated herself for this. For putting obstacles in the way.

Ronon removed his gun tucked into his belt and handed it over to her. "I have to try something. I don't expect you to follow this time." She wanted to tell him then. She wanted to tell him that she would do this but she had to think of her unborn child. She watched him climb over the rail. And drop the fifteen metres feet first into the dark water.

The feeling that she had failed him. And the others.

* * *

Ice cold.

That took his breath away. And he was glad to re-surface to gasp in air. He immediately began to swim towards the hulk of machinery. From the start he had no plan. Except he knew not to dive in head first. If something was hidden underwater, a busted ankle was better than a crushed skull any day.

He could make out emergency lights beyond the crane. And these illuminated the outline of the corridor entrance. A sudden swirl of current threatened to pull him away from his target. A mix of even colder water. To his right, a large part of the mine wall was missing, revealing a huge cavern. The mine was still filling up through this, probably from deep underground. He reached for a thick bar, part of the stand for the crane, and used it to pull himself around to the door. A gap of only a few centimetres above the water line. A pale white face appeared. Simpson. The Marine he didn't know so well. Teeth chattering and trembling.

"R… Ronon! Th…thank G…God!..." And then puzzled. "Only you?"

"Yeah. Only me." Simpson pulled aside.

"There's only f… four of us." All grouped together using a bar identical to Ronon's to keep their faces clear of the water. All pale and worse for wear. Lorne managed a nod in recognition. Holding up an unconscious Shepto. And Radek didn't seem too far off that stage either.

"The w…water dr…drained away once and we w…were ok then. M…managed t…to w…work s…something loose…d…down b…below. D…damn w…water c…came b…back. G…got t…too c…cold." Ronon understood. Without a word, took a slow deep breath. And dived down.

Pitch black. Fingertip touch. Found shapes of the crane. Up for air. Gasping.

"F..found it?"

"Not yet." Down again. His hands found a grated panel. Large enough to allow a man through if removed. That was loose. This must be it. He tugged at it hard. It wouldn't budge. His fingers felt round the edges. Found some rivets. But needed air again.

Back down. Concentrated all strength on the riveted area. Twisting back and forth. Allowing bubbles of air to surface. To keep down there as long as possible. But nothing would give. Returned to Simpson. Longer this time to rest. Wiping the dirty water and wet hair from his eyes.

"N…no luck?" Ronon shook his head. Another breath and down once more.

More effort. The effects of the cold. All at once, the rivets gave way. But the grating still wouldn't move. He knew he should go up again. Another few seconds. There must be an obstruction somewhere. Numb fingers That he forced to explore. A few more seconds…

Suddenly, a strange booming and the current intensified and took him. Wrenching him away from the crane. Knocking out what little air he had in his lungs. Turning him over and over. In a churning, boiling maelstrom. Over as quickly as it had come. Disorientated and with lungs bursting he kicked furiously to the surface. Gratefully slaking in gulps of fresh cold air.

Teyla was shouting high above him.

"Ronon! You must be quick! The mine… the mine is exploding! Ronon!" That explained the sudden surge in the water. The Wraith had returned? Had broken their word after all?

"Ronon! I do not understand it, but there are explosives set all around the walls!" A loud bang. Followed by another. That sent shockwaves through the air and water. Pushing Ronon back to the crane. Simpson was yelling. Ronon couldn't hear. Ears ringing. Then masonry and rock pelting and bombarding, puckering and splashing all around. The rock on fire. Steaming and hissing. And in places, the rock face of the mine ablaze.

Ronon was protected from impact by the gantry overhead and the crane. But Teyla…

"Teyla! Get out of there!" She didn't reply. "Teyla!" Perhaps she'd already gone…

"Christ! R..Ronon! Wh..What's happening?!" Simpson. Ronon swam to the gap.

"The Replicators. Sabotaged the mine." He remembered the Wraith's warning. They didn't just flood the place. "They've set explosives."

Radek, alert now with the noises around him.

"It will r..rip this pl..planet apart!"

Another blast. Shaking the walls of the corridor. Parts of the ceiling peeling away and crashing down around them. Ronon held tight to his bar, waiting for the turbulence to settle down, before taking another breath to descend again.

He found the grating. And found a bar holding it fast. Which in turn was tangled with wires. He worked blindly and urgently to free it. A sound like a full surf. Warned him of another surge. He shot to the surface and held on again, as waves washed over him, agitated by more flying debris.

Back down in an instant. Pulling frantically at the wires. Something smashed down from above, effervescent and yellow even in the blackness. He jerked away. His foot snagged in the wires. The object caught in some weird slow motion, crashed into crane, moving it and causing the crane to slide cumbrously to one side. Ronon twisted around and curled over to find his feet, desperately trying to free his foot. The pressure on his lungs at splitting point. Another object in the water. That floated around him. A touch on the shoulder. And another pair of hands that pulled at the wires with his own, until he was free, and then pushed him upwards. Teyla?

He re-surfaced, choking. But no fresh air this time. A wave of scorching heat. Smoke like fog drifted across the water. That made him cough even more. His eyes smarting. He could see fires yellow like lamps through the smog. A loud crackling and spluttering echoing across the black of the water.

It was Lameros that had freed him.

And then. Ronon turned.

"We can't leave you a minute, can we ?!" yelled Sheppard beside him.

* * *

_'Sheppard! Sheppard!... Sheppard! Sheppard!' _

That annoying voice again. He tried pinpointing its source but his head pounded loud. He remembered that the headsets weren't working.… yet this seemed to be right up close. Inside his ears.

'_Sheppard!' _Rodney.

'_I'm here.'_ No other reaction. Other than think the words. Just too damn drained…

'_I thought you were dead!' _He remembered the bullet. And wearily lifted a hand to check his forehead.

Nothing.

'_I think I might have been.'_ No one should have survived that.

'_Stop lying around! We have to get going!'_

'_In case you haven't noticed, I'm pretty beat up here.'_ Though he wasn't. Not now. But lying around felt like it just suited him fine.

'_Stop feeling sorry for yourself.'_

'_Hey! Isn't that normally my line?' _With effort, he pushed up on his elbows, wincing from yet another set of fresh cuts from the debris on the floor. He was no longer tied with the flex. And he was alone now. The hag was gone. He had no idea how long he'd been out. But since he wasn't surrounded by a whole hoard of armed Nannoids it couldn't have been for long. Unless… Lady Emanii really had killed them all. He rolled over, forcing himself to stand.

'_Hurry up! I'm cold and damp and I'm sure I feel a fever coming on!'_

Sheppard made for what was left of the door. Shaky on his feet.

'_Now whose feeling sorry for themselves? Anyway, I thought I told you to leave?'_

'_It didn't work.'_

'_You heard the whole thing?'_ He was out onto a moonlit lawn.

'_Yeah.__ I thought I'd better keep quiet. She… it didn't seem to like it when I talked.'_

'_Know the feeling…' _His shredded vest flapped around uselessly, so he wriggled out of it and let it fall.

'_What?... oh… Didn't get the bit at the end. What did she do? It suddenly went very dark.'_

'_She shot me.'_ Right between the eyes. And made him remember Lorne.

'_No kidding? But you're alright now?'_

'_Oh, and that makes it o__k? Perhaps I should just leave you to die of pneumonia under these bushes!'_ He fell clumsily onto his knees beside the still form of Rodney and placed his hand on the scientist's forehead. And the exertion of returning Rodney to his own body, seemed to zap the last of Sheppard's energy reserves.

But at least, Rodney came to with no problems, which had been starting to worry Sheppard. In fact, Rodney seemed to bounce up with renewed vitality and headed straight back to the Jumper.

"Rodney!"

McKay stopped dead in his tracks and turned, surprised.

"You're gonna have to help me… I can't stand…"

* * *

Rodney dumped him unceremoniously on one of the back benches. Not deliberately. Merely out of relief. Unaccustomed to helping one of the other team members. It was nearly always the other way round. And rarely Sheppard.

"Can't handle the extra brain power, eh!" he joked breathlessly. Sheppard rolled his eyes.

Lameros, still holding the unfortunate Sethon in a force field, spoke first.

"You have been some time? I could not…" His gaze met Sheppard's. "…Communicate." Whether that was due to Sethon under his control, he could not tell. "You ran into some trouble?" Sheppard figured yet more bloodied rips in his tee shirt might have been the giveaway.

"You could say that."

Rodney entered the cockpit. Twirling a finger at Sethon.

"Look, let Stephen go."

"Sethon." Lameros found it incredible that Rodney had forgotten the name of the Nannoid who'd tried to kill him earlier.

"Yes. Yes," dismissing the correction impatiently. "Let him go. We need him to contact the others."

"You are certain of that, Dr McKay?" Sheppard was looking doubtful too, but he could see how Rodney was thinking. And Lameros couldn't be expected to do the mind thing indefinitely.

"Yes. Only…"

"Yes?"

"Be ready, and I mean _really_ ready, with the… um… mind control again… Just in case," warned Rodney, remembering and rubbing his still bruised neck.

Lameros released his hold. Sethon staggered forward a step. Bewildered that he was free at last.

Realising that the Jumper was stationary. That Rodney and Sheppard no longer occupied the front seats. That perhaps they'd already carried out what they'd intended to do. The Colonel was looking pale and unwell.

"Sethon. You may speak with the others now," said Lameros kindly.

"That I may find out that the Nannoid nation is no more?" asked Sethon, glaring at Rodney bitterly.

"Well, yes, actually, though…" and Rodney hated to admit it, "it was probably none of our doing. I don't think even I could have ever succeeded with the total wipe out thing."

"And you believe that Sethon was protected by my mind control?" suggested Lameros. Sethon looked to Lameros. He felt betrayed. And scared at what he might discover. Uncertain whether he could ever allow gratitude for saving his life to enter into his emotions. Certain that it was never written into any base coding. He closed his eyes and instigated a merger.

Silence.

He opened his eyes. "I can confirm it for you, Doctor McKay. I am alone." He slumped down into the seat behind him and covered his face with his hands. Too many new feelings. The concept of being the only remaining Nannoid in a whole empty galaxy. Overwhelming. Lameros stepped forward and touched his shoulder, eyes full of pity. He turned to Rodney and Sheppard.

"So if it was not you, who did this thing?" Lameros asked. Though he could nearly guess.

"Lady Emanii," replied Sheppard, standing up, holding onto the bulkhead for support, heading for the pilot's seat. He sensed that Lameros wanted to talk but they really did need to get back to Pegasus right now.

"Her power is so great?"

"Apparently," agreed Rodney taking the co-pilot's seat, giving Sethon a wide berth. He glanced anxiously at Sheppard, wondering whether he was up to the journey back.

The Jumper was starting to hum, so at least he could do that. Just needed time to recover then.

"She's one hell of a weapon. Pity she's not on our side," said Sheppard checking the controls for take off. "Sethon? Coming back with us? Lady Emanii is out there somewhere and she doesn't seem to like Nannoids."

"Of course, you know, it does not necessarily follow that she has destroyed the Nannoids in Pegasus," concluded Rodney suddenly and rather too brightly for Sheppard's liking.

"You mean we could still have gone through all this for nothing? Wasn't there anything you did when you _meddled_ that had _any_ effect?" said Sheppard with ire rising.

"I have no way of knowing until we get there!" snapped Rodney defensively.

"Well, that's just great!"

The Jumper rose from the ground with a heading back to Pegasus. Lameros took the last remaining seat behind Sheppard. He was still eager to talk. Sheppard though was blocking him out again. Lameros had misjudged him then. He had believed that after all this time Sheppard had come to accept Eliosus.

"You did not… overcome the Lady Emanii?" he asked once they were clear of the planet.

"I think we should quit calling her a lady. That really was no lady!" scoffed Rodney.

"That would be a no," confirmed Sheppard, ignoring Rodney's remark.

Lameros hesitated. "Is that because you did not wish to harm Passandra?"

"Your sister, right?"

"Yes. You know her story?"

Sheppard nodded. This was difficult. "Emanii was just too powerful, Lameros. I don't know how I got out of there alive. And I know that Passandra never did." _Not in the real sense._ "I'm sorry."

"It was her choice to do this thing. And I think she still would have made the same decision, knowing that the Emanii would overcome her one day." He fell silent. He felt uncomfortable talking this way in front of Dr. McKay. But for some reason, Sheppard was still blocking him. "Eliosus made no such sacrifice. He had the power to wipe out Emanii and chose not to. Contained Emanii, yes. That way he evaded total annihilation for that would have been the price he would have had to pay. In doing so, however, he was able to freely help those who needed it. Then who can say that he was wrong?"

Sheppard wasn't sure if that was an explanation or a criticism. Though Lameros' words hurt somehow. The Eliosus part of him still there then. But since his encounter with Emanii, he felt… empty. Not understanding why. He couldn't communicate with Lameros. He felt weakened. Something had… gone… And he wasn't letting on. But he could hardly pilot the Jumper. A strange... floatey feeling like he wasn't quite in control. Like he was looking on from the outside. Had he… lost Eliosus?

Had he lost… a part of John Sheppard even?

Sheppard still made no response. And Lameros could not see his expression. But saw by the way that Dr. McKay looked across the cockpit to his friend with concern, that he had stirred troubled waters.

And when Lameros spoke again, he'd clearly been reflective.

"All that was Ancient in Pegasus is in decay. All is nothing but ruins, ghosts and wreckage of old ships."

"That's true," agreed Rodney, wondering what brought this on, but he had an opinion anyway and was going to air it. "And all we ever find of Ancients are in stasis pods or trapped in some sort of time warp still travelling from the outer edges of the Galaxy," he complained.

But Lameros words had been meant for Sheppard. "The Guardians on Epiquaaya will be overcome by the remaining Emanii. It is inevitable. The power of Emanii was expected to diminish with time. So then it could be destroyed finally. It was never envisaged that the power of the Guardians would also diminish. Their day is done. It is part of the decay. They will become ghosts like Passandra. And perhaps… Eliosus too."

* * *

The journey back was oddly uneventful. They were, after all, leaving one galaxy and entering another. Anything could happen. The DHD address was no problem. All data was already stored in the Jumper's memory. Nannoids were no more but power to the Gate still remained. Rodney believed it might be residual. But, given time, might soon be depleted.

And the asteroid belt had shifted again leaving them a clear run to the Alora system.

They approached their destination with the paleness of a peaceful dawn lying on the surface of Melancia. Lulled into a false sense of good fortune, they weren't prepared for the scene before them as they approached the mine. Smoke billowing from the roof and loud explosions sending debris and masonry high into the air. The HUD manic with warnings again.

"What the hell's happening down there?" shouted Sheppard. Both Lameros and Sethon stood for a clearer view.

"This is so no good! You know-"

"Yeah! You said. Any explosions could rip the planet apart! Right now, all I want to do is find Lorne!" And probably Teyla and Ronon, by now. Sheppard took the Jumper round in a circle. He was faced with a choice. Landing some distance away from the mine would protect the Jumper. But not its occupants wishing to access the mine. Landing closer could lead to the Jumper taking damage and they'd never get off the planet.

He chose the latter. Finding the east corner where he'd first seen Lorne and the others trapped.

"It cannot be the Wraith! It is they that warned of the dangers of blowing the place up." Lameros. Who suddenly turned as Sethon gripped his arm tight. The Nannoid's eyes staring wide.

"Santal! Emanii told him-"

But Sethon never completed his sentence.

_Thou thinkst thou can warn them?_

Lameros backed away in horror. As Sethon dissolved in a rush of metal fragments. And Rodney was forced to stand abruptly. To avoid being peppered.

Sheppard distracted by all the commotion, landed the Jumper with a thump that threw McKay back into his seat.

"I guess it's safe to assume the Pegasus Nannoids are still with us!" said Rodney, fishing small pieces of out of his collar in disgust.

"Yeah. But where are they?" They hadn't been spotted from the air. The HUD had shown nothing. Sheppard damn well hoped they weren't already on their way to Atlantis. Though the fact that there were no signs of them probably accounted for the absence of Wraith. Certainly there were no Wraith here at the landing site anyway. So there was something to be grateful for. But it was even more imperative to find Lorne and the others quickly.

He slapped the hatch button and leapt up. Lameros was already ahead of him and out into the open. And Rodney not far behind. Sheppard hadn't even thought to pick up the spare P90.

Thankfully the explosions had subsided but as they scrambled up the rubble at the side of the building the heat and noise from several fires hit them.

Rodney overtook Sheppard. Sheppard was still weak. Breathless before he reached the top. It was pointless to try any mind control to put out the flames. To move this water again. To shift this machinery. Eliosus had died at the hands of Emanii. He was convinced of it…

Hell, now he missed Eliosus…

He saw Teyla, with a hand over her mouth to protect herself from the smoke. Calling down from a gantry. Teyla frantic that Ronon had been under the water far too long.

Lameros began removing his weapons and boots.

"You can do nothing about this, Colonel?" Sheppard numbly shook his head. But there was no time to argue. Lameros climbed over the rail and dropped through swirling smoke into the water.

"Rodney! Get back to the Jumper! A harness and ropes!" Sheppard was removing his vest and wrenching off his own boots, throwing down his hand gun, before joining Lameros in the water.

Lameros had already brought Ronon to the surface when he found him again.

"We can't leave you for a minute, can we?" He tried humour but felt far from it himself.

"Go back!" Sheppard pointed. "McKay and Teyla… have a harness! We'll get the others out… and bring them over!... You help them up!" Even Sheppard struggling to talk with the effect of smoke. Words sticking in the back of his throat. He could see that Ronon had done more than his share. Then, he followed Lameros, diving down into the dirty black water.

Sheppard and Lameros' turn to wrestle with the grating. But two hands were better than one. The grating gave. More due to Lameros' effort than his own. Sheppard and Lameros swam through the gap. And the two men resurfaced in the corridor. Glad to find air of any description even though the smoke was filling in here fast. Lameros recovered first, kicked and swam over to the unconscious Shepto. Simpson shook his head. It meant only one thing. And the hurt made Sheppard incapable of action. Again the thought. Shepto shouldn't have been here. And again the thought, if only he could find Eliosus inside again, he knew, he just knew he could revive Shepto. It wasn't to be.

Lameros had nevertheless taken the young man and holding him around the chest, swam on his back to the gap, holding the young marine's nose and mouth, took him under the water to Ronon. Twenty four hours ago, this Lameros had not known them. This had never been his problem. Yet here he was risking his life to save these men whom he never met before. And showing dignity to their dead.

He swam over to Radek. "I…I can't swim, C..Colonel."

"You don't have to. Just take a deep breath when I say. I'll go through the gap first and help you through. I'm afraid though I'm going…" he coughed. The smoke, and the cold were getting to him. What had these guys just been through? "… to give you a great big hug." The joke was lost as Radek cast him an apprehensive look.

"He's injured his back," said Lorne grimly. And Sheppard thought he detected a scowl. Hell, what was it with this guy? Couldn't he let up even now?

"It can't be helped, it's the only way I'm going to get you out. I promise I'll be gentle."

They reached Ronon just as Lameros was returning.

And then Sheppard, met Lameros with Simpson on his return trip. His heart clenched. That left him with Lorne. But that's how it should be. Commanding officer last. Like a Captain going down with the sinking ship. He hoped that wasn't going to be literal.

Sheppard went down through the gap, knowing he was weakening with every passing second. The smoke and the dirty water stinging his eyes and hurting his nose and throat. He was starting to wonder if Lorne shouldn't be rescuing him by the time he reached the Major. Until he felt the soldier shudder violently through the shivering as he took hold of him.

"You hurt?"

" 'S n..nothing." Pride. He couldn't criticise it. He'd be the same.

He eased Lorne through the gap and then pulled himself through.

The current just at this spot had always been bad. But now a sudden wave came out of the black, throwing him against the crane. He re-surfaced. And where was Lorne? He'd told him to hold on and wait. He felt round blindly for the Major. Damn, the man's stubbornness! Had he gone on without him? He was still under the water? Sheppard dived down again. Searching. A grinding, clanking as the crane began to shift beside him. Feeling frantically with his hands. Still no Lorne. Air leaving his lungs too quickly now, he swam back up. Gulping for breath.

And daylight visible through the smoke. The roof had now collapsed.

"Lorne!" he croaked. The water turbulent all around as the crane began to move downwards towards some sort of cavern, visible for a second only before the smoke covered it.

"Sheppard! He's not with us! You have to get out of there! The place is coming down!" Rodney overhead. A rope plopped down onto the surface of the water beside him.

He hesitated. And then the smoke cleared again. And there was Lorne holding on to the other end of the crane. He must have been swept along by the current. A swim of only twenty metres. But it felt like a length of an Olympic swimming pool. And by the time he'd retrieved Lorne, it felt like another five for the return trip.

And then, the building shook and a near by section of wall curled over, dropping into the water. Frothing and foaming grey around them. And another surge sucked them both under. And nothing but the gurgling filled his head. Pressure on his face and nostrils. Taken down before he'd drawn breath.

And the last of his strength left him.

His grip of Lorne loosened. He'd so had enough. He'd so had enough of this day. Let his breath go. Let the current take him. Let it take away the ache and the cold in his body. He didn't care any more…

_Weak! You are so weak, Eliosus!_

And the filthy water caught in the back of his throat. He reached out and seized Lorne's jacket. And kicked and kicked until they both resurfaced again. Gasping for air. Shaking the water out of their faces. Miraculously next to the dangling rope. A harness dropped down beside it and somehow he secured Lorne into it. And took hold of the rope wrapping it round one arm, to be hauled up after Lorne.

And he lay panting and shivering beside Lorne on the gantry with little comprehension how they both got there. The next few moments seemed to take on a surreal quality. Teyla was removing the harness, and Lameros and Ronon were already lifting Lorne to his feet. His head felt fuzzy. His ears still full of water. But he could hear muffled bangs. And feel reverberations through the gantry. They had to hurry. But like a lunatic he had something to say to Lorne. Yeah, his timing was lousy. But it suddenly seemed so important. Light-headed. The actions of a drunk man. Lack of oxygen from being too long underwater, he guessed. He unsteadily got to one knee. Rodney, from nowhere, took his arm.

"This ends here!" he yelled at the Major. And Lorne wasn't so far gone that he didn't understand.

"Why? C..coz you saved my life?" Threw back Lorne. Same old pride. Same old stubborn, stubborn pride. Lameros and Ronon were already dragging Lorne over the rubble, following Teyla.

There had been no time for Sheppard to get his boots back on. And he was too mixed up to register the damage he was doing to his feet over the rough ground.

"Yes. And no!" shouted Sheppard leaning hard on a Rodney staggering with his weight.

"Sheppard! In case you haven't noticed, this planet is going to blow. We just so have to get out of here! It can wait!"

But Sheppard persisted.

"Yes!... That would be a good enough reason!"

The earth seemed to heave.They half fell down the slope on the other side, stumbling and knocking into the first three.

"And no!... Coz if it doesn't... no one is gonna _like_ you anymore!" Lorne was barely inches away. He seemed taken aback. Briefly considered his reply.

"L…like the man said, C…colonel, we have to get out of here." In a voice so quiet and calm. Lorne's way of apology. Amid all the chaos. The old Lorne.

Teyla had already made it back to the Jumper and was beckoning them furiously from the hatch. And Sheppard began to take things in. And it was odd. The Jumper wasn't exactly how he'd left it. Twisted round with the nearside corner buried in a pile of earth.

A few trees tilted at angles.

And it wasn't the usual rain falling. A light feathery dust settling. Ash. Like that when the super volcano exploded on the Tarran planet.

Reality sank in.

Sheppard pushed Rodney away with a shout. They could run faster separated.

Virtually at the Jumper, and the ground shuddered with a loud rumble. Throwing all five to their hands and knees. A wave of heat scorched their faces as a crack in the earth opened up barely fifty metres away, spewing out rocks and lava that clumped and hissed to the ground around them and clanked on the Jumper's hull.

The overhanging open hatch protected them and they scrambled in, dragging Lorne with them.

Sheppard sprinted straight for the pilot's seat, immediately thinking to initiate start up. Rodney was soon beside him. A lull in the rockfall. But still too dangerous to hang around.

"Lameros!" Teyla calling. Sheppard turned abruptly. He'd been about to close the hatch. Hadn't Lameros made it to the Jumper?

Lameros just stood there in the open doorway. A pleading in his eyes.

"You'd better get in, Lameros! We have to get the hell out of here!" And Sheppard noticed for the first time. Shepto, lying on one of the back benches, wrapped with a thermal blanket. His head resting on the lap of Simpson. An oxygen mask over his face.

"Sorta like now! This planet goes, it's likely to take the whole star system with it," added Rodney.

"Colonel... you can stop this. All my… people. They will perish."

All eyes turned to Sheppard. Teyla and Ronon had been wrapping a blanket round Lorne on the other bench. Radek had dosily made room for him. Lorne, Simpson and Radek mistified. Not knowing who this stranger was. Certainly wondering why they weren't taking off now that they had reached safety.

It was Rodney who replied.

"Hey, you can't seriously suggest that…" The idea was mind blowing and ridiculous. "That he can actually prevent a planet blowing up?" He threw up his arms in disbelief.

"I can't… I can't do that anymore. I'm sorry." Sheppard turned away back to the dash. There was no time to argue about this. "Just get in the Jumper so we can take off!"

"But… all those people… we have to save them! We can do this together."

"Lameros!" Sheppard still wouldn't turn and face him. "That's all over for me."

"Together I know we could do it! Since… I have been with you… my own powers have strengthened."

"John." It was Teyla. "Lameros healed Sethon. I believe it is true, that you can do this thing together."

Another rock fall knocked against the Jumper and they all hung onto the sides, alarmed.

"Please do not deny Eliosus. Not now, not at this time!" cried Lameros, steadying himself on his feet.

"Just get in the goddamned Jumper! It ain't gonna happen. Eliosus is dead!" Through gritted teeth. Still refusing to face the man.

"You are afraid of the Ascendeds, Colonel? That cannot be true!"

"No!"

"I do not understand-"

"-Just get in the Jumper!"

"I am not coming with you. I will go to my own shuttle. If I can save two or three families, it will amount to something… I thought… I thought…" Unable to finish, he turned and was gone.

Sheppard looked over his shoulder. "Lameros!" Damn! The guy was going to try this on his own.

Ronon ran to the hatch door. "Lameros! It's close by?"

"Yes." Sheppard was certain it was a lie. "I will see you later, Ronon Dex." It was his way of saying good-bye.

Teyla sprung to her feet appalled. "John! Persuade him to come back! Say you will do this thing!"

"I can't!"

Ronon stood where Lameros had stood moments before, uncertain now, whether to go after Lameros. The air was thick with ash, and a faint smell of sulphur began to drift in.

"Ronon! Get back in! I need to close the hatch!"

"You are sending that man to certain death! Please, John!" Fury in Teyla's face. Unforgiving. That was going to hurt for a long, long time.

"You heard what he said. He wants to fly his shuttle! It was_ his_ decision!" Another blast jolted the Jumper. "And in case you haven't noticed we'll all be screwed soon if we don't get this Jumper off this planet!"

And then Ronon again. "This isn't right, Sheppard! After all that man's done for us."

"You think this is easy for me?! I said this is his decision!"

Sheppard bit his lip. It'd been a long day and night. And getting worse all along. But this was going up against his team.

"John! You cannot believe he did this willingly! You would not help save his people! John! Please!"

"Will you guys lay off! Do you want me to get you out of here in one piece or not? Coz I _know_ I can do that!" And then he turned on Rodney for good measure.

"And you! You got anything to say?" Because it felt like he had. "You might as well join in!"

"Me?" Rodney quailing. And then out with it. "Only… being a little selective with the divine powers, aren't we?" It earnt him a glowering look. "Now I'm quiet."

He couldn't convince them. Couldn't convince them he could not do those things. So there was little point trying. Why blame him? Why not blame Santal and his Nannoids? Why not blame the simple fact they had no radios and could have contacted the Daedalus? Why not blame Emanii…?

He made Ronon's mind up for him and slapped the hatch button, hoping the big guy would move the right way.

And then hauled the Jumper up into the higher atmosphere.


	20. Chapter 20

_Thanks Reviewers!_

_Three chapters to go and you're all still guessing..._

* * *

Chapter Twenty

The firework display was spectacular. One day, perhaps, thought Sheppard, Rodney would work out the equivalent nuke capacity of the explosion. The primary one. And then the secondary one as resulting shock waves hit the next nearest planet. And then the final one that took out everything else except the distant Epiquaaya.

It was the primary one that killed.

And when they made out their mission reports, Sam would require an estimate of numbers of the local population. Casualties. Statistics. And they had no way of knowing. Two hundred perhaps in the town near the mine. But there were outlying villages. Survivors of a space craft for five centuries and now indirectly innocent victims of a war they had no part in.

Casualties. Wives. Husbands. Lovers. Children. Friends. Hopes and dreams.

Casualties. The downside of a soldier's life.

Casualties. That had names.

Marines Wilson, Ripman and Ribeiro. And Dr. Chetley.

Plus one other.

Lameros. He couldn't possibly have made it.

A subdued company in the Jumper as it was buffeted and rocked by turbulence of the last explosion.

"There go our Nq2 supplies," muttered Lorne in the back.

"There are always residues on Little Alora," said Radek, hardly audible, buried under his blanket and sleepy from his painkillers. No doubt he had to feel that not everything had been a complete waste of time and life.

Rodney had heard him. Even from his front seat. Probably, subconsciously, checking on his friend. One day he would have to tell the Czech how relieved he was to see him pulled safely out of the water. Though not today… Some time… When it felt right…

"Yeah, but in approximately half an hour's time, it's Alora that's going to bear the brunt of the fall out." And that was going to make a mess of things.

Sheppard, however, had still determined that he was going back there.

* * *

"Right now?! Are you crazy?"

Infirmary staff and Dr. Keller were busy around them, assisting Radek, Lorne and Simpson onto gurneys. Ronon and Teyla looked on gloomily as spectators. And Rodney was still retrieving his data pad from the Jumper. Sheppard hands on hips. Pacing. Nearly spitting with frustration. That Sam wasn't going to let him go.

"Hey, you're the one who wanted me to explore this thing… so… I'm going… exploring!"

"Have you looked at yourself?! Some R & R would be more in order." He glanced down. Bootless. No equipment. Filthy water drying as caked mud. Ripped tee shirt. Couldn't remember when he'd last eaten properly. And hadn't slept in the last twenty four hours. No. He wasn't exactly cutting a dashing figure.

Sam moved aside for the last gurney. She patted Radek on the shoulder. "Keep me up to date, Jenny?" And the Doctor nodded. "Ronon? You need checking over." He looked no better than Sheppard. Ronon grunted. And both he and Teyla followed Keller. All glad to leave to keep out of this argument.

Rodney came to the Jumper hatch. "_And _he's omitting to mention other certain smaller issues, namely, increased asteroid activity and twenty Nannoid ships in the vicinity, that we picked up on the Jumper sensors, that _could_…" he paused for emphasis, "at this very moment, be setting headings for Atlantis _if_… they haven't done so already."

"Nannoid? _Twenty_ ships? Here?" Sam looked at him both blankly and alarmed.

"Replicators. Don't ask. It's a long story," said Sheppard glaring at Rodney.

"But I do need to ask. I do need to know this stuff." Replicators were supposed to be pre-occupied with the Wraith.

"But not right now. I need to go now. Look! Rodney will fill you in. He _suddenly _seems to be very good at that! I'll just get some… boots. And I'm going." He knew he was gabbling. But suddenly he felt invigorated and energised. All those powers flooding back all at once. And he couldn't explain why. Neither could he explain the irrationality behind his desperateness to get back to Alora. Check up on Ha'ashme? Yeah. That had to be it. Make sure Ha'ashme was safe.

"You want me to call security. Relieve you of duty? Cos that's what I intend doing if you think you can pull stunts like this."

"What? Confine me to quarters? Put me in the brig? I'll just break out! You know that! And stunners won't work either!" he was smiling at her. Turning on his charm. "You wanted me to do all these things… Now, I can."

"See! I said you were being picky!" retorted Rodney.

Sam frowned. She wasn't sure she was comfortable with this new hyperactive Sheppard. She needed him to see reason. If they really were under imminent attack, she needed him here. And she needed to be contacting Command for help pretty damn quickly, not stand round here arguing a point.

She'd been warned though. This man will disobey orders.

"Powers had gone then, Rodney, but now they're back! I've got to go…"

"But why now? If you're worried about Ha'ashme and the others, they're Ascendeds and I'm sure they can look after themselves!" said Sam.

"No. It's not that. I can… take care of the Replicator ships. With the Guardians' help. I know it." He'd only just thought of the idea. It was inspirational. And probably a complete lie. And now, he knew, she would just have to let him go. And it was always going to be easier with her blessing. And if he didn't get it… then yeah, he'd have to shoot his way out…

"Oh, you're joking! How could you possibly take on a whole fleet!" The suggestion was in the same league table as trying to prevent a planet exploding. There just had to be limits to Sheppard's powers. This was all outside the laws of Physics, Rodney's scientific mind argued.

Sam ignored Rodney. "Guardians?"

"Menos and the others," explained Sheppard impatiently, edging to the door. Soon he'd have to explain everything and that would take a good hour.

She could see his urgency. "Then…" and she made a snap decision, "it sounds like I'd better come with you. You can fill me in on the way. We'll take two Marines." Preferably with the ATA gene if things did go wrong. "Back here in ten, Colonel?" He nodded. Not caring one way or another. Though expecting Sam to take precautions. It was the same old thorn. That he might be compromised. She was never really ever going to trust him. He left for the Mission Prep. Room.

"Sam! This way too dangerous!" protested Rodney.

"Thanks for your concern. But… I sort of started all this. So I feel obliged to take responsibility personally. Leaving you in charge, Rodney. You need to notify SGC. And as a precaution, I suggest you get all non-essential personnel to the Alpha site."

"Right… Yes… Of course." Squaring up his shoulders. Lifting up his chin. "I'm in command. Of Atlantis. Right. I'll just go and… um… get a bite to eat first, shall I?"

"Sounds like a good idea, Rodney," said Sam, trying not to smirk.

* * *

Rocks were already pounding the Stargate when they passed through.

If one of those took out the Gate, then the return trip was something like twenty two hours by Jumper. She was beginning to question her own wisdom of accompanying Sheppard. The Jumper's display showed the Replicator, (or Nannoid, she'd been corrected in saying,) ships were still gathered round the tiny planet. So Atlantis still had some hours grace. If the Gate went, then they'd be racing the ships back. But the ships had hyperdrive. It'd be no contest. Everything depended on Sheppard persuading these Ascendeds to destroy the fleet. And as far as she knew, that meant breaking every code in the Ascendeds' rulebook.

That race was looking like it was still on.

Sheppard sketchily filled her in on everything that happened on M12 23D, or Melancia. It was taking all his concentration to manoeuvre a path through the fall out. He'd managed to clean himself up a fraction though still carried a good day's stubble. To grab himself a fresh BDU jacket. A tac vest with a P90 lay abandonned on a back bench, next to the Marines. It looked like he had no intention of wearing it. And a thought occurred to her. Perhaps he no longer had any use for weapons. There was no handgun in his holster either. And there was some pique of regret. Was she right to have asked him to change? Ultimately what price was he going to have to pay? She'd always reasoned that he could still be John Sheppard, calling on the powers of Eliosus whenever he chose. But she had seen a transformation. It felt like John Sheppard was disappearing…

"You mean you went to another Galaxy?" That was quite some new intel to swallow. "In a Jumper? Wow! I mean… that's cool." He nodded. Indifferent. Studying the HUD for the many obstacles ahead, quick to take evasive action and giving the impression that this was all so easy.

About Lorne... she said nothing... and she probably never would... perhaps the man had been through enough already... though men had been lost because of a wrong decision... how was she going to square that?... another day's problem...

"And Radek was right… there was a containment unit there? I bet Rodney didn't like that!"

Sheppard made no comment.

"And now it's under threat from this bombardment, just the way the Wraith feared it would be," she noted quietly. Practically to herself. As again Sheppard wouldn't be drawn into conversation. This was fast becoming unnerving. Sam cast him a sideways glance. And thought how serious this Sheppard was suddenly. Nothing like the one of twenty minutes ago on Atlantis. He was worried about something then. Psyching himself up for what lay ahead, no doubt.

"The cloak's up," he said as they rounded on the site of the Temple, "and I guess it's shielded." Rocks seemed as if they were hitting mid air and then bouncing and falling to the ground in a wide arc, leaving a small circular mound marking the edge of the cloak. The rattling on the Jumper was starting to get noisy too.

"Think they'll let you in?"

"Doubt they'd want to risk lowering the shield. Not for the Jumper anyway. I'll land as close as I can. There's just enough space." The storm from the previous week had felled a few of the trees. "And then see if anyone's home."

"John. The Jumper won't stand too much of this battering either."

"No. Shouldn't be long."

They'd hardly touched ground when the nearby shield appeared to wobble and then extended right over the top of the Jumper.

"You did that?"

"I guess." He activated the hatch and stood. Taking a deep breath. "Here we go then." He still seemed ill at ease.

"You think they'll let me come?" asked Sam.

He nodded. "Not them though." Indicating the two Marines. "They stay in here." He was quite firm on that point. And when they were outside, he closed the hatch again without even touching it, effectively shutting the soldiers in.

"John, there was no need-"

"-I don't know that!" he snapped. And moved towards the building. She frowned and followed him. Something wasn't feeling right…

Sam looked upwards once to the noise of the pounding of rocks hitting the shielding overhead. And then back down to see an iridescent patch of shimmering blue immediately before them. The appearance of a lady in blue. As if caught in a hologram. That became more solid. She heard Sheppard catch his breath. And could understand that. The lady had good looks in abundance.

"Ha'ashme."

But the lady made no greeting and began an instant angry tirade. "Why did you desert Lameros? Why did you not go to his aid?" she demanded.

"And why didn't you tell me about Emanii?" Sheppard flared up back at her. Sam was taken by surprise. If there had been any chemistry between these two, eons ago, it certainly wasn't showing now.

"You did not want to any part of this, remember?!"

"And I couldn't help Lameros because…" and he faltered. Struggling with something that was on his mind. He bit his lip to stop the trembling that was there. The air rippled blue again. And an older man appeared.

"You speak out of mind for John Sheppard's leader?"

"Yes, Menos." And Ha'ashme continued to harangue Sheppard, circling him. "You had the power to stop it all! It was there within your grasp!"

"That's just it, Ha'ashme," came a quieter reply. "That's just it, I didn't. I lost it all. I don't know why. Something happened to Eliosus. I don't know what." So softly. That her fury stopped dead. And she took pity on him.

Ha'ashme tilted her head slightly. Studying him.

"I cannot read it. Yet, you have powers now… I, too, cannot see the reason why..."

"We cannot spare time to discuss this Ha'ashme. We have to strengthen the Shield," pointed out Menos. And he too, turned on Sheppard. "Because of your lack of action, John Sheppard, the containment unit is under threat. I really cannot understand why you have returned here! To see the destructive results of your labours, no doubt! "

"Hell, we did everything we could! We even went to Edena. Do _not_ blame _me_ for this!" And Sheppard was angry again, punctuating every word of his last sentence with an aggressive point of a finger.

This was wrong. This quick sudden temper was all wrong, thought Sam.

"Sshhh, John," and Ha'ashme pulled his arm down. "Make amends now. Help us. Go to your Obelisk." His face showed his reluctance. His eyes, a fearfulness. And he looked to the Temple.

"You can't… you can't strengthen the shield from in there?" Desperate… like he did not wish to leave the Temple.

And there it was again. That nagging thought for Sam. This wasn't like John... These mood changes...

"No, no, John. We keep all controls well away from the Unit, in case, Emanii escapes."

"Sam?"

"You wish for… Sam to go too? It is not a problem. We will provide you with a personal shield."

* * *

"The White Room?" Sam suitably impressed. No sounds from the outside. Sheppard paid her little attention. Work to do. And he made straight for the central console.

His coldness disconcerting. He'd not spoken on their way here. Though he had requested that she came… Again the feeling… something wasn't right…but she couldn't put her finger on it…

He had not even acknowledged the small bubble of shield that protected them.

"This is kinda weird, huh?" Sam had asked. A sort of transparent igloo, that moved with them. Every now and then, a dull thud indicated that a rock had hit its surface. The trees of the forest weren't doing so well. The Guardians must have carried out some kind of flora repair since the storm. But it was fast being undone by the debris raining down damage from the sky.

She watched him from behind.

Hands on the control pads, just how he had described it before. Watched how his shoulders locked together. Concentration. She guessed that his eyes were closed.

"Damn!" he cursed, and broke away from the column, eyeing it up and down in frustration. "Why isn't the damn thing working? Ha 'ashme!" He yelled to the air. "Why isn't this working?"

This wasn't right. This anger wasn't right.

Then a blue force field activated, shimmering, holding him close. He spun round. Terror in his eyes.

Not like John. He would have joked. Even at something like this.

"Sam! Sam! Get me out of here!" He was screaming. He was actually screaming. She was already at his side, wildly looking over the consoles. Looking for anything that could be of help.

"This is not my technology, John!" Admitting that she was clueless.

And Ha'ashme and Menos were in the room with them.

"What's wrong with this damn thing?" Sheppard's anger had returned.

"It's a lock-down," explained Menos, calmly scanning the controls, pressing buttons.

"Well, I can _see_ that!"

"And it came up with no warning?"

"No! Ha'ashme? Get me out of here!" But she looked at him helplessly.

Menos found what he was looking for.

"It does not recognise you."

"I told the damn thing I was Eliosus! Why shut down? Get me out of here! I haven't time for this!"

"No. That is not enough. And it's recognising your genetic fingerprint. That's in order. It's detecting other information. There is…" Menos looked at him and Ha'ashme in turn, alarmed. And Sam in her turn, looked at all three uncomprehending.

"What is wrong, Menos?" prompted Ha'ashme. And then she sensed it anyway. "Remain still, John."

"How do you expect-"

"-No. Remain still. Keep calm." It was like when he was a kid. Being told there was a spider in his hair. And whatever it was, it must have been bad because Menos had already taken three steps away from him, urging Sam with a protective arm to do likewise. And that was with a force field. And that was weird. He thought these guys were invincible. Yet… they seemed to fear him.

"Ok, my turn! What's wrong? Grown another head, have I?" He said with acid sarcasm.

"You said that you went to Edena?" Ha'ashme.

"Yeah." Getting more and more annoyed by the second at the flickering blue that was driving his eyes crazy.

"What happened there? Who did you meet?" Sheppard had the feeling these were rhetorical questions. She was reading his mind faster than he was thinking it. He remembered the hag. Hey, he'd never forgotten her...

And then… he couldn't. Whatever it was, he couldn't remember it. Like a memory playing hide and seek. And had found a really good piece of darkness to conceal itself.

"Passandra…" And he grasped at the only thing that was there. Knowing that something elusive was still hiding behind the dark screen. And it was effort now. His head hurt. His head hurt like he'd been… shot. And he fell to his knees. Hands clutching the top of his head. Eyes shut tight. Groaning. Fighting the...

And then it started. A low hum. And a golden light replaced the blue of the forcefield. Lines that flowed up around him.

Sam. "My God! It's the containment unit!" And she instinctively moved forward towards Sheppard to help. Menos pulled her back firmly.

"If that thing harms him…" warned Sam.

"There's nothing you can do now…"

And the golden lines looped and looped. And Ha'ashme continued to question Sheppard.

"She touched you?" Ha'ashme was drawing it out. Drawing out the thing that was hiding.

"She damned well shot me!" He was crouched over now. Beating the pain out of his head against the floor. "Sure she touched me!"

"But not Passandra, John. Concentrate. Who was it, John? Who was it really?" pressed Ha'ashme, coming closer to the forcefield, kneeling also, to look at his face.

"Step away from him, Ha'ashme!" warned Menos. But Ha'ashme ignored him.

"No! No! Don't do this Ha'ashme! Don't make me do this! Don't! Don't make me remember!" He cried, pleading through gritted teeth, to the ground beneath him. He didn't want to remember. He didn't want to remember. There was something else hiding. Another memory. Tainted with guilt.

"Who was it, John?" Ha'ashme persisted.

He rose to sit on his heels, throwing back his head, with his hands clasped to his temples in agony.

"Oh my God!" he gasped. "I killed Lameros! I killed Lameros and all those people!"

"No, John! No, you did not! Do not listen to that voice! She is trying to confuse you. To make you heavy with guilt. Recognise who was truly responsible. Who was it that prevented you from going to his aid? Free yourself!"

And Sheppard looked up then. And stood. Surprised by golden gyrating figure eight, pulsating around him. He twisted in all directions. Frantically seeking a way out. This was worse than the force field he knew that. Much worse. And the thing that was hiding in the darkness was shrieking in his head like there were a hundred others.

"John!" called Sam, helplessly.

"What is this?! What is this, Ha'ashme?!"

"John, you have to be strong. Stronger than you have ever been before…"

"I will show you strength!" Not his voice. Not his voice. And the thing came out of the darkness. And he raised his hand. Fighting it. Fighting it. But Sam fell senseless to the ground. Menos immediately at her side. Feeling for a pulse.

"What...?"

Sheppard stared at his hands. Horrified. Sinking to his knees once more.

And the voice in his head. Mocking. Like in Edena.

'_Thou art weak, Eliosus! So weak! Release me from this contraption, or she dies. And Ha'ashme too if thou tarryest!'_ And she retreated into the darkness, still laughing.

He looked up to Ha'ashme. Confusion in his eyes.

"You cannot do as she asks, John."

"No." A faint whisper.

"You have been carrying Emanii, John. It was she that drove you here, back to us. It was probably she who prevented you from helping Lameros. A part of her gratuitous evil. Though if the planets were destroyed, she could not lose. If the Temple were damaged, Emanii would escape and they would be free and united again. She must have realised that we would always welcome you, allow you near the Temple and not suspect. So she could release the rest. And if we did suspect, she believed we could never allow this to happen to you. But… the programme is set. It was Eliosus' own work. This is a containment vessel, John. It has detected Emanii. You will be contained with her, as it appears you cannot be separated. It is an infinity band. It is for eternity. Only you can free yourself from her. And send her back to the Temple. Do not mind me or Colonel Carter. She uses us to weaken you. Find Eliosus, John. Find him within yourself. And he will help you. But quickly now. As the band is energising." Her tone was poised and calm. But her eyes were flooding fast.

And it was true. The gyration had quickened. And Sheppard was fading, flickering within its light like a malfunctioning monitor.

"Please, Ha'ashme… I can't. Eliosus is dead. The bullet… " His appeal to Ha'ashme.

"No. No. That's how she entered… And left you weakened. But he is there. I am convinced of it. Concentrate. Find him. Concentrate on the darkness and drive her out."

He did as she asked. Eyes shut. But too many things. Too many people. Trampling through his mind. Lameros. Sam. Emanii. Ha'ashme. John. Eliosus. Where was he? Where was he? And his heart hurt. And the damp sticky feel of blood at his chest again. This was Eliosus. But he was weak. This was Eliosus. But he was mortal.

This was John.

The figure eight. Faster and faster. Throwing out sparks. Filling up with brown-red mist. Till Sheppard was nearly obscured.

And it was all he could do was keep the darkness from mocking him.

"Ha'ashme, please!"

"Do not listen to him, Ha'ashme, even now it may be a trick!" Menos. Looking up from his place at Sam's side. Could see Ha'ashme wavering.

"Ha'ashme, please! It's… me. Eliosus."

"Don't listen to him, Ha'ashme!"

"Ha'ashme! I can't do this on my own! Please!" Sheppard reached out for her.

"Ha'ashme! Don't!"

"I have lost my daughter to Emanii. I am not about to lose Eliosus. Not this time."

Ha'ashme took a step closer and entered the eight.

And placed her hand on his forehead. "It _is_ you, Eliosus…" And she smiled.

And washed away millennia of their heart ache.

"Yeah, how about that?" And he stood, smiling also. A silence. A stillness. With no time.

"You are hurt?" Noticing the wound.

"Everytime…"

She kissed him. Gently. On the lips. Running her hand through his hair. As she had always done…

His kiss. Longer. Taking her around the waist. Pulling her close. As he had always done…

Pausing.

"It's not much… What, it's been like a million years? We've got _some_ catching up to do!"

She pushed him away, interrupting the third kiss. Laughing at his eagerness.

"It is strange… you sound like John."

"Hey, we're the same guy!" And he leaned forward, holding her tighter for a fourth kiss.

"No, no." Pushing him away again. Reminding him. "Emanii. We will do this together now."

She placed her palm upon his forehead again and he closed his eyes, falling back into the cool bliss of her touch. Opening them again as she held his hand.

"Did I ever tell you that you're so goddamned beautiful? So goddamned beautiful..."

But the thing came out of the darkness and laughed at him.

_Weak Eliosus! Watch now... watch how I will end this!_

"No!..." And he caught Ha'ashme as she fell limp into his arms. "No!... Ha'ashme!..." A sob choking in his throat.

The cackling laughter... "No... " And he gently laid the lifeless form of Ha'ashme on the floor, desperately holding her, burying his face in her hair.

"No... no..."

And another voice... that he barely knew through the tears... Passandra. _You can defeat Emanii... she believes she is stronger than you. But Eliosus was always the strongest... _

And in his scream, Eliosus smashed Emanii.

And in his anger, sent Emanii back to the Temple.


	21. Chapter 21

_Many thanks reviewers! _

_We've come a long way... Only a week's passed in story terms since Shep first set foot on Epiquaaya... and now..._

* * *

Chapter Twenty One

Sam came to slowly, raising herself on one elbow. And then sat. Wiping a shaking hand over her face to drive away the bleariness and the headache. Remembering that it'd been John who'd knocked her out.

And then saw him.

"Oh no..."

A short distance away. Back to her. On one knee. Holding Ha'ashme in his arms. Caressing his face through her hair. She sensed there were tears. A few moments to count herself lucky to still be alive. For she guessed Ha'ashme hadn't been as fortunate.

And Menos offered to help Sam to her feet. Unsteady, so she was grateful. She dare not trust herself to walk to Sheppard.

"Wha... What happened?"

"You have heard of Emanii?" Sam nodded. "And of the strand that escaped and was taken to Edena by the Guardian, Passandra? When John visited Edena, Emanii made her escape in his... mind, believing she could return to Epiquaaya, could trick us and be re-united with the rest of Emanii. It is why he did not appear... quite himself. He succeeded in entrapping Emanii again, but... at what price?" And Menos indicated Ha'ashme with his eyes.

Sam nodded again. Understanding. And then limped over to Sheppard. Kneeling beside him. Placing a consoling hand on his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry..."

Which he barely acknowledged. His eyes glistened. A strange calmness in his demeanor. The strength that was John's that would not show emotion. And perhaps something of Eliosus... a quiet resignation to the fate.

He turned away, still laying a cheek in Ha'ashme's hair.

Menos also came over. Awkward in his stance. "She was always mortal, you see. But never experienced death. We believe that this was also the Ascendeds' punishment of Eliosus… That they… you could never be united, even in death."

"She did not deserve this. She did not deserve to share my pain." His voice broken. Close to the line of a sob. But not John's voice.

"John?"

"John?" And he frowned. "Yes... John... I am still John..." Confusion in his eyes.

"You said earlier... that... Lameros?... Lameros brought Shepto back to life?"

"Lameros?... did not deserve that either... should have... should have helped him... Yes, Colonel Carter. Lameros did that thing... but..." And he shook his head. "It is time... to accept..."

"What do you wish to do now, John Sheppard… Eliosus? Only… the shield still needs strenghtening… I do not mean to insist we hurry… And the other Guardians…" He looked at Sam. "The other Guardians report that the Nannoids are only two hours away from Atlantis. We believe they were cloaked, a device conceived by Emanii, waiting until they received a signal."

"Her continguency plan. Revenge. In case all else failed." John. Bitter. His voice with strength now.

"I have to go back… John," said Sam, uncertain like Menos, whether to call him John or Eliosus.

"We will both go back," he said.

And then he laid Ha'ashme carefully to the floor, gently arranging her arms at her side.

"What is to be done? A... funeral, Eliosus?" asked Menos.

"I shall deal with that later..."

And Sam realised that John had accepted the name, Eliosus. Then… this was not John.

He read her mind.

"John is... 'safe', Colonel Carter," he assured her. "I am simply more of Eliosus than John. And it is still my wish, naturally, to save Atlantis and I will ensure that is done… You know, he was correct to not to let me… 'be'. I am not deserving. And Dr. McKay was correct to call this place a folly. He was even correct to say I was selective in the use of my powers… We had no right to take this upon ourselves, Menos. The evil nature has always escaped and always will. This should always have been allowed to take its proper course. There were Ascendeds who thought this also. I should have listened. I intend to finish this, Menos." And he stood. Resolved.

"It is your decision, Eliosus," though Menos did not sound convinced.

"A part of her evil was always with me. A part I could never shake. A pollution. An obsession. Always after glory. Always after adulation. I thought I was unassailable. Invulnerable. I thought it was love… But look how it has ended…" And there were tears in his eyes again. And he turned away from Sam and Menos so they would not see.

"I hate to say this, but I really need to go," repeated Sam, getting to her feet unsteadily. "If you are going to help…?" She was uncertain whether to ask Menos or… Eliosus.

"Yes… You have heard of the weapon of Chaya Sar, Colonel?"

Menos with alarm in his eyes. "Eliosus! We haven't enough energy for this! You do not seem to realise, that our power has diminished since you left us! And I know that you have not yet reached full potential. You would need to be here for many more weeks. And you have just fought Emanii."

And John turned back to them. "Combined, we should reach the required level."

"But twenty ships! And you…" and he glanced at Sam, and back to John again, choosing his words, "… understand the risk?"

"This is how we finish it, Menos. I have made up my mind."

And Menos was silent. Turning over all the implications.

"Everything is in decay, Menos."

Echoing the words of Lameros.

"Our work here is over." And Menos bowed his head to Eliosus in deference, and in defeat. "This is your will, then so be it."

* * *

"Ma'am. Sir." With emphasis on the 'sir'. Sergeant Kett. He'd noted the difference in Sheppard. And Sam knew it wasn't the first time that those with the natural ATA gene experienced an empathy with one another.

Sam. Mildly surprised when Sheppard sat in the rear compartment.

"The Colonel isn't flying, ma'am? He's injured?" He'd also noted the dried blood on the Colonel's shirt.

"No. He's… fine. You get us home."

"Yes, ma'am." And the two Marines sat in the cockpit while Sam sat down opposite Sheppard. Who was studying the floor. A sadness.

"It's kinda of weird, but I can't really call you 'John' anymore, can I?" she ventured. To break his silence. He'd hardly spoken since they left Epiquaaya. The remaining five Guardians had been summoned. Sheppard greeted them each by name. An embrace. Physical contact that Sheppard would have shied away from, but for Sheppard as Eliosus came quite naturally. Then each in turn, ending with Menos, placed a palm on his forehead, and were absorbed, lost from view. And, thought Sam, probably lost forever. This had felt like a farewell.

Sheppard shook his head in answer to her question. And then a soft, "No, I believe not."

"And you can really assure me that John will be... safe?"

He looked up. "I hope so." He smiled wryly. And Sheppard seemed to be in that smile. And in the shrug that followed. "But he knows... I know that these things need to be done."

"Yes. He would." Sam persisted, however. "But the weapon of Chaya Sar… she was only permitted to use it in protection of her own planet. Aren't you therefore working outside some sort of perimeter? Won't you be incurring the wrath of Ascendeds or something?" She was thinking total annihilation. Payment for breaking the rules of punishment. "How can you say that John... _you_ will be safe?"

"I said that I hope so. But yes, I am throwing myself at the mercy of the Ascendeds. But we are doing no more than making amends anyway. Who can say how they will react? I have never actually been _forbidden_ to do this." And there was Sheppard again. A slight smile. The cheeky audacity.

They were silent again.

"Colonel Carter?" And it would have been odder still to say: 'No, please, call me Sam.'

"Yes?"

"I have an apology to make. No. Two. The Nannoids know the position of Atlantis... I guess they discovered that from me... when Emanii was… inside. And secondly, that you were, in effect, held hostage. I am sorry that you came to harm."

"And which one of you is making those apologies?" They smiled again. And it felt good, if a little awkward, given the seriousness of the situation they were in.

"Yeah, I guess I do have some split personality issues to deal with, if…" _If he made it._

And then, his face alert. Like preparing for a mission.

"The Gate. When we are about to enter, I need the Jumper held steady."

"You are going to destroy Epiquaaya, aren't you?" He said nothing. The sadness returning.

"That's some funeral, Eliosus…"

* * *

Passandra too. With her mother. _Do not think of me. Destroy Emanii. Destroy Emanii._

For Emanii had weakened. And Eliosus was stronger.

And the blue lightning spidered out from the Jumper. Pulsating plasma tendrils, filaments, brushing, kissing the surface of the planet.

And fleeing quickly.

For one brief second, the whole universe flared with white energy.

Then Epiquaaya. Blossomed as some exotic flower. Boiled as a white cauldron. Gases rolling and rolling, turning and turning. Yellow flaming and hungrily feeding on all that was life. Billowing hellfire, exhaling all that had been life. Till nothing… but vapour and dead rock.

* * *

"Rodney? You need to provide… Colonel Sheppard with all the assistance he requires."

"Colonel Sheppard?" Rodney blinked. It'd always been Sam's policy to call everyone by their first name. And the said Colonel, stood at the top of the Gateroom stairs, looking a little lost. With Lantean staff to and froing all around, intent on evacuation procedures.

Rodney gathered his senses again.

"Look. I've no time for all that! Got a city to save. We are screwed, Sam! Really, truly, Sam."

Sam was about to say something but Rodney held up a hand to stop her.

"Ah, ah, updating, updating, Sam! We've just had those Nannoids drop out of space, right on our doorstep. With a cloaking device that eluded all sensors. They're, what, twenty eight minutes and thirty three seconds away. Somehow they've been able to block all communications _and _the Stargate."

Teyla had entered the Gateroom below, helping Infirmary staff with patients. She briefly glanced up at Sheppard. And turned away instantly. Blanking him out. And it hurt. And he wanted to run and apologise. To clear everything with her. And wished Ronon was there too. But Sam could explain everything later…

Rodney was still talking. "What their technology is, I've not been able to figure out. I've only just this moment overridden the virus to get the Stargate operational. So there's no way Earth can help, not in the short space that's available right now. And evacuation is only just underway-"

"-Rodney!" And he was crazily working three consoles at once, pushing over or past operatives. Or just plain pushing.

"And that planet Alora just blew up. And we were all worried about that. Couldn't contact you."

"Rodney!" Even louder.

"And now you say you want me to drop everything and assist… Colonel Sheppard!" And he folded his arms. "Well, unless he can come up with some sort of

miracle-"

"-Rodney! We went for help and we got it."

"You did?" And he looked from Sam to Sheppard and back to Sam again. Trying to comprehend.

"Eliosus," said Sam by way of explanation. "And a weapon like Chaya Sar's."

"He's…?" And Rodney gestured with a finger.

"Yes."

"Really? That's sort of like… wow… he did it in the end then?" And peered round Sam at Sheppard again.

"You need to take him to the Chair room."

"What, he doesn't know the way?"

"No, you might need to help him?" Sometimes this would be Nobel Prize winner for Physics just had to be treated like a child. "I'll take care of things this end."

"Yes... Of course... Right away."

* * *

"Well, there it is, then." And Rodney left him standing before the Chair, walking past to activate the half a dozen or so consoles in the room.

"Rodney?"

"Hmmm?"

"I'm still John, you know."

"What?" Wondering what had brought this on.

"You don't have to treat me like a stranger." Rodney stopped tapping buttons. But his mind, in true Rodney style, went gabbling off ten to the dozen. No. He hadn't known how to deal with this. John Sheppard had gone off. And returned somehow different. And all the time they'd spent on Melancia, it'd seemed that this moment was going to be inevitable. When there was more of Eliosus than John Sheppard. And he wondered how he would react to that. How he would cope. Apparently, not coping very well. What do you do when your… best friend, and yes, he had to admit it, John was his best friend, had turned into some sort of demi god? There weren't lessons on the subject. Nothing you could download off the internet. No. He was, actually, feeling embarrassed about the whole thing. Yes. He was treating John like a stranger. That's because he was. But he couldn't tell the guy that. Not when he just stood there. Open and honest. Which wasn't a John thing at all. But perhaps not a demi god's either. No. Someone a whole lot more fragile and human than that…

"Sorry… I didn't know that I was."

"When you were about to Ascend, I thought I treated you no differently… though you were hell to live with." And Sheppard settled himself down in the Chair.

"I was? Yes, I guess I was." And Rodney resumed his button pushing.

"I mean, the mind reading part was a real pain. But... it's nice to know I'm your best friend." And he laid back in the Chair waiting for the aftershock.

"Ok! Ok! That was private!" And Rodney came round to stand before the chair to confront him.

And then was un-Rodney like. He was speechless. He didn't mind that Sheppard knew about the best friend part. Not in the least.

"That was… that was… no… you're welcome… but…"

"We should get on."

"Yeah. A city to save…" And he was back to the one console with a display. "So… er… how do you propose to do this? Chaya Sar's weapon? But you need the Chair?"

"I took out Alora, Rodney. To destroy Emanii once and for all."

"And the Guardians that were there?"

"Are here with me." _Except one. _"Working together was the only way to achieve this. But to finish Alora I depleted our powers which were probably insufficient anyway. I intend to use the one drone. To act as a vehicle, a platform to launch the weapon." No longer Sheppard. This was Eliosus. And this was going to take some getting used to.

"What if the drone gets hit?"

"The Guardians can last long enough until I get another one up there."

"And, I should like to point out, that since the Nannoid ships haven't reached orbit yet, that's a long haul for a drone."

"I'm not about to wait for the Nannoids to come any closer."

"No… No… That wouldn't be a good idea. And it'll be a surprise. They won't be expecting an attack at that range. And certainly won't be expecting anything quite so small. Probably imperceptible to their scanners unless they were really looking for it."

"Probably?"

"Yes. I know. I said it again. Right. Ready when you are… You have... power to the Chair." He paused. "And… um… good luck." And he meant it with all sincerity.

And Sheppard closed his eyes and placed his hands on the control pads.

Unsaid. _You know, Rodney, I might not survive this…_ But then so many other things were left unsaid.

The Chair laid fully back and the blue of the Chair lit up as the City accepted him.

* * *

John.

For Eliosus never used the Chair.

And weird to guide one drone. Usually. The quick, quick fire. And sheer numbers reached their target.

This was… this was like flying. Without the confines of the Jumper.

John.

For Eliosus was never a pilot.

The drone. Inanimate. Now animated, fused with all the senses that were John's.

…The promising hum of weaving between Atlantis Towers. The exhilarating curve and rushing soar upwards. The sea, a shimmer blue haze. The whisper touch of thin white cloud. The crystal clear turquoise of lower atmosphere. The sharp tang of ice cold to the brain. The slight tag of gravity left behind. And breath taken away. The deep, deep indigo of beyond and mystery.

Unfettered and free of physicality. Pure perception and emotion.

To feel this intensity. To feel this liberated.

John and Eliosus.

He allowed the drone one target. Sweeping in from behind. Undetected. The Nannoids holding steady in arrow formation. Only those at the front would engage Atlantis. Those at the ends might encircle. Good enough place to start. Pinpointing with accuracy the main engines of the Nannoid ship. As the drone peeled away, the ball of blue lightning fingered and flickered its way to the the next in line. Systematic and efficient in its destruction. Searing explosions to drifting black wreckage in seconds. Consuming the Nannoid fleet with little compassion. Unprepared and surprised by the attack, no ship made any defence. What could they do? This was never written into Nannoid weapon systems.

Eleven destroyed. And the remaining nine pulled away to escape. Two were damaged from debris from their neighbours and one soon exploded.

Everything had been automatic. But now Sheppard was forced to think. They weren't engaging hyperdrives. They were still intent on taking Atlantis. He'd assumed that once the centre had been taken out, they'd lack leadership and make their escape. But either Santal still survived, or the Nannoids were still adhering to a directive they could not alter.

Give chase then.

But the lightning… lumbering and slow. Slack to control. Unresponsive to reflexes. Shadowing and darkening.

'_Menos?'_

'_I am sorry, Eliosus. We are losing energy.'_

'_We can't stop now!'_

'_I do not know a solution.'_

'_Atlantis?'_

'_How could that be done?'_

"Rodney! I need more power!" Rodney started from his monitoring on the screen as the Chair flipped back up to upright. He'd seen the diminishing energy signature from the weapon.

"If you're thinking what I think you're thinking, then no! And I can't possibly see how this would work. It's…it's electrical circuitry not some sort of psychic mumbo jumbo!"

"There's no time to argue, just do it! I need everything, everything you've got. Drain Atlantis dry if you have to!"

"This is a neural interface! It'll kill you!"

"If you don't do this, then I will!" And Rodney believed he could. And would. And perhaps… it might kill Sheppard, but not Eliosus…

"Rodney! You have to trust me!"

"You have power to the chair from all secondary systems as of… now. It'll take time to take power off the-"

And Sam was in his earpiece.

"We're losing power to parts of the city, Rodney! What's happening? And we still have seven ships bearing down on us!"

"I'm assisting Sheppard, remember?" He tapped in with his sarcastic reply. "Sam. I'm shutting down all systems to re-route to the Chair. Leaving the Shield but everything has to go. Life support. The lot. He has this crazy idea… Oh my God! Oh my God, Sheppard, don't do this! Don't do this, please! John!" Rodney uncertain. Leave his console? What could he do to help?

"Rodney! What's going on?"

Sheppard shuddering in the Chair. Eyes shut tight against the pain.

"Got to, Rodney. Might have enough for now. Feed in the rest… when you're ready. Then… switch everything back as soon as it's finished."

"I have to keep the shield up, Sheppard." Just in case.

"I know." And he activated the Chair again. Within seconds. Another ship disappeared from Rodney's screen.

Two minutes later. When all safety protocols were completed. And all computer systems shut down barring that of Rodney's, Rodney was ready to transfer power to the Chair. Hand over the pad. Hesitating. Glancing over to Sheppard. Uncertain. Knowing what he was doing. Putting off the dreadful moment. Excuses. This might even cause the Chair to malfunction. He'd had no time to work out the figures. He glanced at the six blips on his screen. There was no way they could take those out with just their supply of drones. He watched Sheppard still shaking in the Chair. Sheppard might even be unconscious already for all he knew. There was no rationality behind all this. No scientific logic. But there was a point when even a scientist had to leave everything to blind faith...

And he let his hand drop down on the pad.

Kept his back turned but dare not look. He was aware of a sharp movement in the Chair behind. Could hear the moan. But dare not look. Intent only on the screen in front of him. Steeling himself to only watch those blips disappear one by one. Rubbed at his eyes. Heroics done a score of times before. But never got any easier to cope with. And then glanced up. Saw the reflection in the glass panel. Where normally the water effervesced, but with the power off, dark and dull. And saw Sheppard there writhing, and arcing his back in agony.

_I am so stopping this now! _

But... it was all over anyway.


	22. Chapter 22

_So... one last final thanks to reviewers... though a forwarding thanks too... in the hope someone might review at the end ... whether to groan or to sing... I don't mind which... and if you're reading this in weeks... months... years from now... please still feel free to review... this has been my baby for so long now... I shall still be casting an anxious glance this way from time to time..._

_And yeah... you'd think Shep would be going a little crazy now... but he's a hero and this can't be any worse than the trauma of being fed on by a Wraith... it helps that he's come to accept Eliosus... who is stronger than us mere mortals... and I guess, that's been the whole idea behind the story..._

* * *

Chapter Twenty Two

There was little point in breathing as there was no air.

The blue lightning had dimmed and gone cold. Nothing but space.

Menos. _'We can leave now.' _In a tone of invitation. Something inside him said no. And the last of the Guardians were gone in shimmering white light.

He should get back to Rodney. To the Chair. Save himself. Statistics reeled through his head. The sub-conscious instinct of the pilot. That made him panic. Nine seconds to survive decompression. Before your lungs froze. Further fourteen seconds without air. Before asphyxia. But this wasn't really his body out here anyway. Was it?

Ha'ashme was waiting... distant singing... a haunting song... her song of hope and death... once there was a man with a quest... lost... his mind bewitched and darkened by the spirit of the forest... but finds his way back to his true love... once... he'd intended to teach her the ways of Ascension... you need not fear death but live forever in hope... we hope for a journey beyond death when we will unite with our loved ones once more... Ha'ashme... Lameros... Passandra...

_Ha'ashme was waiting__. _And he missed her. And he only wanted to be with her. Away from the world of human hurt. Eliosus? Or John? And he could no longer tell.

And he allowed the drifting to continue. The stars looked good. Even the wreckage of ships glinted in the light of the moons. Had always loved space. Always...

A memory. A promise to Sam. That John would not be harmed.

'_Let me go, John. Let me go.'_ His voice. But not his voice.

But John was mortal... John could be re-united with Ha'ashme...

_That's just it, Ha'ashme... you're another man's wife._

_'Let me go, John. Let me go. This is not for you.'_

But the drifting continued. No air. No energy. No thought.

A breeze suddenly. Cool, like the evening sea breezes on Atlantis.

_'Don't do this... John.'_

Breezes that brushed gently around him.

Until... the stars went out.

* * *

And Sam knew. And it was an awful thought. Sam knew that this was what Eliosus had hoped for. This had all been a part of his plan. To be with Ha'ashme once more...

And Jenny shook her head and looked at Rodney with those oh-so-sorry eyes.

It was like... it was like Sheppard just didn't _want_ to breath anymore.

And Rodney looked back, pleading.

"One more time, please..." The words choking in his throat.

Realising though, it was useless to continue with the CPR.

He then took the blistered hand that hung lifeless over the side of the gurney. Because, somehow, they'd managed to scrape him out of the Chair.

And it didn't feel awkward to hold John's hand. Not anymore.

"Come on, Sheppard… come on… don't do this…" Because, hell, there wasn't that much wrong with the guy. "Don't do this… John."

And the hand fluttered. And Rodney let go in surprise.

And the machines seemed to kick in all at once.

And Jenny's tone changed. Clipped. Professional.

"Right! We have him now! Infirmary, quick!"

* * *

"I wake up in this place too many times," he said drowsily, slurring his words into the mattress.

That's what he'd said after the fall, thought Keller.

"Yeah, your file is pretty much running into megabytes," she said again, her own voice muffled by a surgical mask.

A pause. While he took in his surroundings.

"Hey, Doc? Why am I laying flat on my face?" And he tried to bring up a hand to bat away the tube tickling his cheek. But too lethargic to succeed.

"I was changing your dressings. 'Fraid you've suffered burns to your back and hands." Thankfully not third degree. "I had hoped I wouldn't wake you. You're not in any pain, are you?" Immediately concerned.

"No. Head feels like… trampled… no… I'm fine." Either being brave. Or a little out of it still. Probably the latter as he drifted off again. And then a moment later.

"Burns? I thought I fell and said 'hi' to a hard rock?" He didn't remember then. Anything. And Sam had said they were going to keep this thing under wraps. So she fed the lie.

"That was a week ago. This was earlier today. A malfunction with the Chair."

"Well… Rodney had better fix it then…" dreamily, without any of the irritation he normally would have shown. And then suddenly. Alert. Fearful. Indignant.

"Hey, am I naked?!"

And she rolled her eyes. These heroic military types were all the same…

* * *

They were all in the Conference Room. Sam. Keller. Teyla. Ronon. McKay. Even Lorne. With his leg resting up on a nearby chair and crutches propped up against the table. He'd refused a wheelchair.

Not a post mission briefing as such. More of a meeting extraordinary. No one was taking notes. There were no data pads. Or laptops. There would be no record of this meeting ever taken place. Nothing on any Atlantis data banks. Sam had ordered it that way. And if the outcome was as she had planned, any mission reports filed would be limited to those submitted by Lorne. That missions to discover Nq2 in the Aloran System had been an unmitigated failure. That an explosion had led to the extinction of the Aloran system anyway.

Rodney had been the first to start the meeting, running through everything he had witnessed whilst on Melancia and the events in the Chair Room. Then Sam, herself, had filled in everyone about the final trip to Epiquaaya, the demise of Ha'ashme, Emanii and the Guardians. The weapon of Eliosus.

"Jesus!" said Lorne, letting out breath slowly. "That's some story! I just knew Colonel Sheppard couldn't have gotten over those sorts of injuries just like that!"

"And that made a difference, how?" asked Rodney sourly. Lorne took the criticism quietly, looking down and fidgeting with his clasped hands on the table.

"And I… how could I have got it so wrong? How could I have so misjudged him?" Teyla horrified. "If what you say is true, then John had no part in the death of Lameros. And I… blamed him-"

"-_We _blamed him," interrupted Ronon. And she smiled weakly at the Satedan's support.

"I… we shall have to make an amends, make our apology." Neither of them had been able to visit Sheppard as yet, occupied with returning evacuees from the Alpha One site.

"At the moment, that would be difficult as he seems to be suffering from some form of amnesia," explained Rodney, not a little smugly, as it seemed like all the usual good guys had tripped up this time round.

"He still remembers nothing then?" asked Sam of Jenny.

Jenny shook her head in reply.

"Think he ever will?" grunted Ronon.

Jenny looked round the table, addressing everyone. "I can't say. This isn't concussion. Once, in his sleep, he mentioned… Ha'ashme…that was her name wasn't it?" Sam nodded. "I guess it's some sort of trauma. Though, on the face of it, he seems like the same old Sheppard. I'm not a psychoanalyst. He might start recalling things tomorrow, in a year, or never..." she shrugged.

"And there are no signs of abnormal accelerated healing?" enquired Sam.

"No. At this moment he is the same as you or I. But his Ancient DNA remains unchanged. It's as if it's gone into some sort of dormant state. I can't really explain it."

Rodney held up a finger to speak.

"Look, I know that I'm the last person you'd expect to talk about metaphysics. I don't know how it would work… But both Passandra and Lameros indicated that the Guardians required energy from Alora to maintain their power levels. I imagine that Sheppard would be no exception. Once Alora had gone… it's been downhill from there."

"But it was Sheppard who decided to blast Alora," said Ronon.

"Yeah… some sort of irony there… he always wanted the ultimate weapon of all time… then when he found it, virtually had to destroy it and then can't even remember ever using it."

"But Emanii _is _now destroyed?" asked Teyla.

"Fingers crossed on that one, Teyla. I doubt if we can ever be sure of that," said Sam. "Anyway, to the real point of this meeting…" and she took a deep breath, "Rodney has already confided to me that it was John's wish to never speak of his Ancient powers, and we all have some idea of his reluctance to accept them. I feel we owe him by abiding by those wishes. So... I'm proposing that we keep this whole thing quiet. With the exception of the Major, everyone else here knows that Jenny and I have already gone halfway down that road. Jenny has already admitted an error when she first identified John's ancient gene, in order to get an SGC investigative team off our backs. At probably some considerable expense to her own professional record. And we still want to keep those investigations away. There is no telling what they would do to the Colonel. And unless he regains his memory, we're even keeping the truth from Sheppard himself. He's been told that the Chair malfunctioned and that's why he has his current injuries."

"One less in on the secret, huh?" said Ronon.

"And if anyone did start to ask awkward questions, he can honestly say he hasn't a clue what they're talking about," agreed Rodney. "'See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.'"

Sam continued. "This cannot possibly succeed unless everyone in this room is prepared to support it and make it work."

"This is a cover up, ma'am. Pure and simple. You any idea how many protocols you're going to break? If this gets found out…" Lorne shaking his head in disbelief.

"I know. And I know this is a helluva favour to ask of you, in particular. But, Lorne, I need you in on this more than anyone. I know that this is rather a tall order in view of the recent death of your brother and how you felt about Colonel Sheppard at the time-"

"-Hey, I'm in on it. I didn't directly see all this stuff, anyhow. Like the guy said: see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. And the trust is appreciated. I'm just questioning the wisdom of what you're about to do. They'll be too many discrepancies. I mean, for starters, how are you going to explain the destruction of the Nannoid fleet alone? How you going to explain that to SGC when we've just asked for help?"

"Training simulation. No one actually _saw _the fleet. Blips on a screen. We say I put them there and we made everything as real as possible, even down to notifying Earth," explained Rodney. "We've even…er… invented a code name. Operation Nannoid."

"I dunno…" said Lorne doubtfully, wincing as he shifted his leg to a more comfortable position. "How are you gonna play this? I mean there _has _to be mission reports. The Alora system blew up for heavens sake!"

"You have to keep everything straightforward. You got into difficulties in the mine." Lorne's face fell for a moment. Hell. Colonel Carter was doing more than covering up Eliosus. "You were rescued. The retreating Replicators blew up the mine. And that caused a wave of further explosions that led to the extinction of the Alora System. There need be no mention of Colonel Sheppard's part in this. No mention of Edena. No mention of Nannoids. Or of Emanii. And Eliosus... was just a name on an inscription," proposed Sam.

"No disrespect, Ma'am, but that's an awful big lie just to protect Colonel Sheppard."

"We have to go that far, or not at all," affirmed Sam.

"Wait. Wait. Coz, in my opinion that _is_ too far," said Rodney, who'd been a willing conspirator till now. "Let me get this straight…You're also going to ask me to wipe all data on a whole new Galaxy? Who could say what we could find there? _That_ is certainly going too far."

"But the Gate sits in the middle of an Asteroid field. And we're not certain if we can ever get it powered up again. We'd struggle enough to access Edena from Atlantis. And if we ever did, you said there was nothing there but Nannoids, and de-activated ones at that."

"It's what we were told, yes. But it might not be true!" Even Sam was starting to have her doubts. It would have been easier if the Gate had been destroyed but somehow it had survived intact. She knew this was hurting Rodney. Going against everything science stood for. To research, explore, find new answers. Jenny had to admit to a professional blunder. Sam and Lorne had to back a lie that would get them thrown out of military if discovered. Rodney would have to deny the existence of a new world, when so much effort had been spent just trying to get to this one.

"How I see it, is like this, Rodney. Our resources are pretty well stretched as it is in Pegasus. Without going further afield. I know that it's not my responsibility to be making this sort of decision alone, but I'm going to make it anyway. The Aloran Gate is in a precarious position at the moment with so much fallout. I doubt very much if it'll ever be accessible any time soon. It'll be lucky if it isn't destroyed. And I certainly wouldn't like it if an expedition team got trapped on the other side when that happened. But, Rodney, don't wipe the data, 'lose' it and when the time is right, it can be discovered again."

"For prosperity huh?"

"Yeah, for prosperity."

"Or until the memory dies with me?"

* * *

They filed out. Rodney. Then Teyla and Ronon offering to help Lorne back to the infirmary. They could visit Sheppard then.

Dr. Keller was the last to go.

"That went pretty much your way."

"Yeah, but, whoa! Tell me I just didn't do that! Tell me I didn't just concoct a scheme so completely dishonest, and then asked my senior members of staff to wholeheartedly support it?"

Jenny smiled. " 'Fraid so. Don't worry. No-one would ever suspect that _you_ could be so underhand."

And she followed the others.

And Sam was left thinking. God! Her three month review with Woolsey in a couple of weeks' time. How could she possibly stand up to that sort of scrutiny and not let these cracks show? For her it had all started out, not wishing Sheppard to be treated like Orlin. To give him space to come to terms with his new gene. And finally, a recognition that John just wanted to be normal. For the others… well, it was still to protect Sheppard. And she knew that loyalty was always going to keep the secret safe.

* * *

"Looks like Teyla needs rescuing," said Sheppard.

"Yeah," said Ronon.

They were fully armed but neither moved.

"Think he's dangerous? I mean, this is my first mission since I've left the Infirmary… wouldn't want to risk it. _Rodney_ thinks he's dangerous."

And Rodney pushed through between the two of them, shoving them both aside.

"You know why he's here?! To fix the Stargate! A couple of little glitches and they send _him_! Don't they know who's the leading authority on wormholes?"

"Apparently not…So…run that one by me again, who _is _the leading authority on wormholes, Rodney? Forgotten that too," said Sheppard with a straight face. And Ronon smirked.

"Oh, ha! ha!" said Rodney with false mirth.

Dr. Lee from SGC had Teyla cornered against a wall of the Stargate Room. She was smiling ever so politely at Dr. Lee's tedious conversation. Thinking. Anything to blot out the monotony. She thought how well Sheppard looked. Laughing as Rodney cuffed him across the back of the head. And then, her own more genuine smile, as Rodney turned to face Ronon. To mete out the same punishment. Halting instantly and thinking the better of it, faced by Ronon's stony stare.

Everything back to normal, it seemed. And although Sheppard could still no longer remember that lost week, he was left fully recovered. Even the scars on his hands were barely visible. Dr. Keller believed that there was still some residual Ancient healing. But, of course, no one remarked on it in Sheppard's presence. And he seemed not to consider it unusual either.

Everything back to normal. Though not so much for her. Holding too many secrets. Weighing down as guilt. Soon, she knew, she would have to tell John about the child she was carrying. That Kanaan, the child's father was lost with the Athosians. And persuade John, therefore, that it was truly imperative for her to continue to go offworld in search of her people, despite her condition. Teyla deeply regretted the lost opportunity to ask John to trace the Athosians. But she remembered the old Athosian proverb: 'The branch has broken and has fallen into deep water; never allow the branch to dam the river.' She planned soon to ask Sam for permission to visit the Seer of the Vadeenans. Perhaps he could search Pegasus with his mind for the Athosians, now that John could not.

"Really, Dr. Lee, that is most… fascinating." Her smile was starting to feel tired and stiff.

The others came down the stairs, ready to access the Gate for the next mission. Dr. Lee turned to greet them.

"Er, hi, boys, we were just discussing the oddity of nicknames, uh, a little oddity of my own, I guess, that I should be so interested," and the little balding man coughed into a fist and chuckled, "but… I was just about to tell Teyla about the nickname that some of the guys at SGC have for you lot."

"Oh, please do tell! We all know you want to!" said Rodney, rolling his eyes, weary of this already.

"Well, it's not so much a nickname as a song…"

"A song?" queried Ronon.

"Yeah, and it goes something like this…" and he began to tunelessly sing the lyrics to a familiar theme.

"…if there's somethin strange, in your neighborhood, who you gonna call: Wraithbusters!"

And there was more than one groan in the room.

The End

* * *


End file.
